


White Christmas

by PurplePatchwork



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Character Death, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Family, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Holidays, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-08 03:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 20,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8829316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePatchwork/pseuds/PurplePatchwork
Summary: Collection of RusAme drabbles around holiday-themed prompts.





	1. List of Prompts

This is a collection of drabbles I wrote/am writing for a prompt-challenge centered around the holidays (and rusame), where every day of December has a different theme to write about. The prompts are listed below, and I shall give very short summaries with each drabble as well.

1\. Coffee Date

2\. Vacation

3\. Frost

4\. Candy Canes

5\. Decorating (in general)

6\. Scarf Sharing

7\. Lights

8\. Mistletoe

9\. Ushanka (hat)

10\. Fireplace

11\. Cuddling

12\. Colonial - Imperial

13\. Sledding

14\. Ice Skating

15\. Snowman

16\. Baking Cookies - Desserts

17\. Snowball Fight

18\. Traditions (pagan or otherwise)

19\. Snowed In

20\. Family Dinner

21\. Shopping

22\. Winter Solstice - Yule

23\. Gift Giving

24\. Christmas Eve

25\. Christmas

26\. Dressed Up (or formal wear)

27\. Snow Angels

28\. Winter Forest

29\. Saint Basil's Cathedral

30\. Russia's Birthday

31\. Tree Decorating (in honor of Russian tradition)


	2. Frozen Latte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Coffee Date
> 
> In which Alfred meets Ivan in a little café.

Alfred let out a yelp of surprise as a small jingle announced his entering, difference in temperature inside and out being so large it made him shiver. He shook his head like a dog, snowflakes twirling to the ground, hands clasped together and rubbing to try and get some feeling back into them. Bright blue eyes scanned the little round tables stacked neatly along the row of windows, growing brighter when they spotted the one he came for. His mouth formed a soundless “hi!” as an all-too familiar head perked up, platinum locks fitting perfectly to the white background of winter. He jabbed a thumb at the counter, wordlessly explaining how he’d join him the second he ordered a coffee to thaw his frozen body. Ivan nodded, smiling that one smile that had made Alfred fall in love with him, waiting patiently, gaze never straying.

Alfred sang Christmas carols under his breath as he leant over the counter, unwinding the long scarf Ivan had given him the moment the sun was no longer able to warm his breath. He kept feeling Ivan’s gaze in the back of his neck, those lovely eyes of molten amethyst beckoning him; Alfred remembering the first time that handsome face had looked his way with the same intent he had looked at Ivan for the longest of times. How glorious the moment had been, how his heart had soared. And here they were, a young couple going on dates and staying the night and doing all kinds of relationship-things, their bond not even a few months old in romance, although it had been stewing for several years of friendship beforehand.

Alfred got his caramel chocolate-coated latte and quickly darted over to his Beloved, heart skipping a beat when he could once more draw out that one smile only he had the privilege of calling his own.

“Hi. Sorry I’m late, traffic got stuck and our bus had to let us off.” He easily slid into a chair, taking off his coat as the blood in his veins began to warm up some more.

Ivan shook his head, waving his apology away with a simple gesture of the hand. “Is fine. I was not waiting long.”

Only then did Alfred’s gaze drop from the other’s face to what was below, and only then did he notice that Ivan was wearing the ugly Christmas sweater he had gotten him what seemed like decades ago. There was still a stain on its sleeve from the one time Alfred had gotten a bloody nose and Ivan saw using the sweater to stop the bleeding as the only possible solution. It was a little tight for such amount of bulking Russian mass, but Alfred didn’t mind. He didn’t mind one bit.

“You’re still wearing it,” he said fondly, a hint of tenderness in those pools of blue as they once more locked with violet.

Ivan’s smile gained something shy. “Of course I do. I never give away clothes from loved-ones.” He absentmindedly touched the frayed edges of the scarf delicately draped around his neck, and for a moment the air became fragile, speaking of times long gone, past Christmases no one could return to.

Then, with the blink of an eye and a teasing chuckle, the moment was gone, Alfred’s smirk getting something defiant. “What’s so funny huh?”

“You are,” Ivan sighed, dipping his chin to lie comfortably in the palm of his hand, that gaze of adoration seeming to Alfred as if he were a work of art Ivan couldn’t stop staring at, finding some new detail to admire every time he looked. “Your nose is red from the cold.”

“Oh.” Alfred lightly rubbed at the aforementioned part of his body. “It is?”

Ivan nodded, bent over the table, and stole a kiss from the patch of freckled red before Alfred could even begin to form a protest. Instead, he retaliated by quickly connecting their lips before Ivan could draw back, lingering a moment to get some more of the sweet vanilla the Russian had been adding to his coffee. When they broke away, eyes closed to savour the kiss, Alfred giggled.

“Remind me to keep wearing your scarf.”

Ivan dipped his spoon down, scooping up some whipped cream. “As long as your sweater is mine alone to wear,” he replied silkily, eyes holding so much more meaning to the phrase.


	3. Change of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Vacation
> 
> When Ivan ends up missing the train that would lead him away from the stress of everyday-life, a stranger comes up with a new plan to spend the holidays.

_No no no no no no no no!_

Ivan flew down the last set of stairs, heart plummeting when he saw his train leave before his eyes, Ivan excluded. His suitcase was dropped to the ground as he panted away his frustration. Everything seemed to be going wrong today. Yesterday. Last week. Which is why he had decided he needed a vacation. Well, seemed like that wasn’t going to happen.

Groaning, he dragged himself to a chair, giving his tired body just a moment’s rest before trying to search for a solution. He didn’t notice the other man already sitting several seats from his own, before he felt a questioning gaze burning holes into the side of his head. The stranger smiled uncertainly, waving one hand. “Missed your train, huh?”

Ivan answered with a wry grin, barely containing himself from showing teeth. He was in no mood to be friendly. To make things worse, it promptly began to snow.

The man rose from his seat, and to Ivan’s great displeasure, came to sit right next to him. Couldn’t this person see he wasn’t up to having chitchat with a stranger?! Right now, he just wanted to go back home and crawl into his bed, not getting out before it was time to go back to work in a week or so.

Two tickets being swayed from left to right in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned his head with a sigh. The other had a fierce gaze of determination that somehow made his eyes light up, and Ivan felt a question growing on the tip of his tongue: how do you do that?

“Okay, this is gonna sound crazy. And I normally don’t do stuff… _that_ crazy. But listen here. You missed your train, and if I’m right you were gonna go on a vacation.”

“How did you figure?” Ivan asked thinly, deciding he might as well humour his companion since he obviously wasn’t going to leave him be.

“Okay, question: did you have like, a hotel, or friends or family you have previous arrangements with, or was this more an on-the-whim thing?”

“Why do you ask? You are being terribly invasive,” Ivan chuckled, resting a cheek in the palm of his hand. There was something amusing about the youthful energy this boy seemed to breathe, ooze from every fibre of his body.

“I’ll take that as a no. And sorry, again, I don’t usually do this. But I have a proposal. I was gonna take my boyfriend to my parents’ house for Christmas for the first time, introduce them to my folks and all that. But here’s the thing. I just got a text, like, two hours ago, he telling me he’s breaking up with me. I guess I should’ve seen it coming, but here’s the deal. I’m boyfriend-less. My parents live in a huge house in a warm state. It’s gonna be all Christmassy and fun and warm. _You_ are vacation-less.”

“No,” Ivan said, before the other could even begin to pose his question. He had seen enough of his sister’s rom-coms to know that this was going to end in horrible failure. “I am sorry, but I can-“

“Why not?” that blue-eyed angel insisted, and while Ivan could clearly see the absurdity of his plans, he couldn’t help but pity him all the same. “You don’t have to do _anything_! My dad doesn’t like people being lovey-dovey in public either, so you won’t even have to pretend to like me. We got a pool, lots of great facilities downtown, there’s even a beach only ten minutes away by car!”

“You, are insane,” Ivan said, laughing all the while.

“Yeah, that’s what my boyfriend told me too,” the boy said with a shrug, allowing just for a moment for his façade to break, sadness slipping through the cracks of the mask he’d carefully constructed for himself.

Ivan felt his heart drop. His own resistance was wavering. It was still the stupidest idea he had ever heard of. But then again… perhaps it was exactly the adventure that would pull him out of that slump he’d somehow ended up in.

Angel eyes looked up again, expression dapper yet fragile. “It’s okay. I knew it was stupid before I asked. I just thought, hey, why the heck not try it? Could’ve been fun. But if you don’t want to…”

Ivan groaned, placing his face in his hands. The train of 10.30 rolled in, his companion perking up. This was it. Now or never.

In a flash, Ivan rose from his seat. Grabbed the other by the hand, dragging him up to full height (which was still smaller than Ivan, he noted with some smugness). “Do not make me regret this,” he said darkly, rewarded by the brightest smile he’d ever seen.

“Thanks, big guy,” the boy said, and before Ivan could stop him he was balancing on the tips of his toes, placing a kiss to his cheek. “Name’s Alfred by the way. And we better make a run for it.”


	4. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Frost
> 
> When it freezes outside and the heating gives up, there is only one solution.

Alfred’s heart was pounding so fiercely he _knew_ Ivan was able to hear it. Their backs were turned towards one another, but that didn’t take away the fact that they were currently lying in the same bed. Together. Under one blanket.

This hadn’t been planned or anything. How could either of them have foretold the central heating suddenly shutting down completely, while frost whitened every window? It was freezing cold, and they had no electricity. The only solution was sharing whatever heat they could find- that of their bodies.

Alfred could feel a field of electricity between their backs, knowing that if either of them moved closer, they would touch and the barrier would explode. His skin tingled, both from excitement and the cold; lying close together wasn’t enough. His toes still felt like they could fall off any moment.

His trembling figure stiffened further as he felt the other move behind him, roll over, sigh sleepily, audibly frustrated.

“This is not going to work,” his voice grumbled, Alfred nodding without being seen. Then, he practically fainted as he suddenly felt an arm over his torso, drawing him in until his back lay flush against Ivan’s chest, the other’s body following the curve of his spine quite perfectly.

“Better,” Ivan purred, and in that moment Alfred _knew_ , as if Ivan had regulated even the frost torturing the land outside.

“You planned this!”

Ivan laughed softly, breath tickling at his ear. “Now now Alfred, how would I have managed to do that? I am not a supernatural being.”

“I don’t know, but you-“ He yelped as the hand slipped lower, body instantly heating up in response. “What the fuck do you think you’re…”

Ivan kissed down his neck, smiling against the skin.

“We should keep warm against the frost, _da_?”


	5. The Battle of Ages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Candy Canes
> 
> Alfred and Ivan have a battle of the ages.

Two sets of eyes were locked in such a fierce staring contest it would have made any living being cower under their seats, had another been present.

“Are you sure you’re up to it, Braginsky?”

Musical laughter, tone mocking. “I am so up you will not be able to distinguish up from down once we are finished.”

“Ooooh, bold words,” Alfred laughed, giving a swift whistle that made Ivan narrow his eyes.

“So you think you are ready to take me on, Jones?”

“Oh I was _born_ ready. My whole life has been preparing me for this day. You better bring it on!”

Ivan sneered, fingers rapping on the tabletop. “You do know, _Jones_ , that back home I am known as the biggest sweet tooth?”

“Oh you ain’t got shit on me,” Alfred growled, gripping the table with both hands. “I can take you on with both hands tied behind my back, blindfolded. I’m a stone-cold killer of sweets, and no one’s gonna take that title away from me.”

Ivan leant in, as did Alfred, their noses mere inches apart, eyes never blinking.

“Ready?” Ivan purred.

“Ready,” Alfred spat.

Within seconds, both had their weapons unsheathed… and began sucking on their candy canes as if their lives depended on it. Never breaking eye contact, the heat rising to near murderous temperatures. It was a battle that would reach the history books for sure.


	6. Angel Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Decorating
> 
> Alfred tries to decorate the house for the holidays.

Christmas carols could be heard all throughout the house, seemingly following behind Alfred as he went on a cleaning and decorating spree. This year, he wanted his house to be the most colourful, bright and inviting home of the entire neighbourhood, no, of the entire state- so that everyone could feel happy and at ease when walking past or coming inside. Because this year, he wanted his house to be full of people, of voices and laughter and sounds, to contrast how it had been last year. Last year was a disaster he’d rather not see repeated.

Everywhere Alfred’s hands touched, new decorations appeared. Garlands in red and green and gold were hanging from the ceiling, draped along cabinets and desks and closets. All kinds of lights made the spaces that much brighter, chasing away every last bit of perceivable darkness. Snow globes stood above the fireplace, two big red socks hanging beneath. Always two.

“The weather outside is frightful, and the fire is so delightful!” Alfred sang loudly, remembering the discussion they’d had about the lyrics: and yet still but, every single one had passed the revue, and he remember their laughter as they decided to change it up every single time they sang it.

His movements slowed as a fond smile graced his vibrant features, came to a complete stop when he opened up the next box. He hadn’t looked at this one ever since…

No, he had to use this one. The tree wouldn’t be complete without it. It would feel wrong _not_ to use it, disrespectful in a way.

And yet his hands trembled as he reached out, vision suddenly going blurry, making it unable for him to gaze at the small angel his lover had once gifted to him. “Self-made,” he had told Alfred, both proud and anxious for the other’s reaction. “I made it after your visage.”

Something wet and warm trickled down his cheeks, into the collar of his ugly pull. He found the little angel to resemble Ivan much more, for every time he gazed upon it he could only see those beautiful eyes widen in surprise, the image almost comical had it not been the last.

The carollers continued their jolly chant even as his own voice turned into a soundless scream, and he knew no amount of light or sound could make up for the loss of his beloved.


	7. Love and Devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Scarf Sharing
> 
> Alfred is not made for the cold. Luckily, his boyfriend is.

It was _freezing_ outside! Alfred already regretted having sprinted out into the streets the mere second Ivan sent him a message asking him to go out for dinner, but here he was, standing by the no longer operational fountain, puffs of breath escaping his trembling lips and hands buried themselves deep within the pockets of his pants.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, jumping from one foot to the other, hoping his toes wouldn’t fall off in the process.

“Alfred!”

Looking to his side, he saw Ivan running at him, long coat flapping behind him as he raised an arm in greeting. Alfred’s jaw dropped, before he began yelling. “Are you _insane_? Close your coat, you’re gonna freeze to death!”

Ivan slowed down to a leisurely trot before stopping next to him, leaning down for a kiss to the lips in greeting. Straightening back up, he shrugged, snowy locks perfectly dishevelled from that little sprint. “I am fine. Is not too cold.”

“Not too cold?” Alfred repeated, a few pitches higher. “It’s like, minus a million degrees! The new ice age has begun, we’re all gonna die!”

Ivan laughed at his boyfriend’s silly antics, then grew quiet as he saw the other’s shivering and flushed skin. Gently pulling him closer, he unwinded his favourite scarf for a bit before draping it partially over Alfred’s head, drawing them closer still.

Alfred’s cheeks were red for more than one reason now. “N-no, you don’t have to, I’ll be fine, I can take a little hypothermia…”

Ivan smiled, booping their noses together. “I insist,” he said silkily, and Alfred could only hide his cheeky grin by turning his head and smothering it in the fabric of the fluffy scarf.

The began walking slowly, lazily, leaning against one another as they strolled past several restaurants and cafes, taking their time to pick one out even though it was still cold as hell. Alfred took a deep breath, smelling cinnamon and pine. Ivan’s scarf always had many different aromas hanging about it, seeing as he took it near everywhere, but still it managed to somehow keep smelling distinctly Ivan. He was grateful for that fact, for this gift, and to show his gratitude, he once more turned his head to press a wet kiss to Ivan’s cheek, loving the surprised yet fond gaze he got in return.


	8. Thunderstruck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Lights
> 
> Alfred can't believe his eyes; the lights must be playing tricks on them.

Alfred stood in frozen admiration at one end of the town square, unable to tear his eyes away from the magnificent view before him. They had finally put up the decorations for the holidays, and for some reason they looked even more beautiful than ever. Greenery was covered in ornaments, a big Christmas tree stood right in the middle of the square. _Lights._ So many lights, everywhere you looked. Despite it being dark out, Alfred felt like he was walking in pure sunlight.

But that wasn’t what caused him to be this awestruck. It was the man in charge of the lights.

Alfred had known Ivan Braginsky for quite a while- they went to the same school, talked every now and then. Amiable acquaintances, he would call them. But never, not even once, in all those years, had the mere sight of Ivan made his pulse race, his mouth go dry, his mind numb.

Ivan was practically glowing.

As he stood there beneath the Christmas tree, looking up to see if everything was in place, the lights somehow hit him from just the right angles to made him seem like a radiant angel. His light blond locks sparkled against the starry night sky, his skin was delicate porcelain and- oh god- he turned around right then and there, and his eyes were luminescent. Not even vaguely so, but pure, glowing balls of rapturing amethyst. He was gorgeous, and Alfred found himself unable to tear his eyes away.

Ivan caught his gaze, began raising a hand to wave, then paused. Eyebrows raising, his cheeks got a delicate taint- and only then did Alfred realize which expression Ivan must have found in his features. Quickly closing his mouth as it had been hanging open, he shook his head, taking a step back, blushing heavily as he thought about the implications of both his actions and thoughts.

 _It’s just the lights_ , he berated himself, _get a hold of yourself! You haven’t properly talked to this guy in weeks!_

Yet, when Ivan’s expression turned more gentle, knowing, smile of adoration clearly visible even from this distance, Alfred’s stomach clenched nervously, hands tightening, and he knew there were only two options: continue standing here like a moron or flee. Before he got the chance to choose though, Ivan began walking towards him, optical illusions (because it had to be that) making it seem like he was walking on pure light.

Alfred rubbed his eyes, Ivan having gotten much closer when he opened them again. He gulped, knees trembling, hands sweaty, eyes wide, like a deer caught in the headlights.

Ivan stopped before him, looking both shy and excited, and Alfred felt like his stomach had dropped to his feet.

“Hello, Alfred,” that musical voice came, and how had Alfred never noticed how those tones sent prickly goosebumps to his skin? Ivan held up another string of lights, the proximity of it to his eyes only doubling the angelic picture Alfred had drawn of him. “Do you want to help me put these up?”

Alfred had forgotten how to breathe, how to talk, how to do anything but stare, stare and devour the other’s image with his eyes alone. The very second he found his tongue again, he straightened up, nodding so fast his head felt like falling off.

“Y-yeah, sure!”

_That’s it. You’ve gone absolutely insane. Or this is a crazy dream. Or you’re on drugs!_

Whichever it was, Alfred felt like flying when Ivan draped an arm over his shoulders.

Completely thunderstruck.


	9. The End Justifies the Means

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mistletoe
> 
> Sometimes, Christmas turns into parkour. Especially when trying to smooch your crush.

“So, you’re coming to the party right?”

Alfred padded through his kitchen on socked feet, phone clenched between ear and shoulder as he continued baking some delicious cookies (simultaneously messing up the entire kitchen).

“Yeah, of course I’ll come! I mean uh… You invited a lot of fun people too, right?”

“Yes, Ivan is there too,” Arthur replied, and Alfred blushed as he was able to hear the eye-roll.

“I wasn’t necessarily talking about _him_ -“

“Alfred, you’ve been talking about him non-stop ever since the beginning of the semester. Yes, I invited him, and…” The tone turned conspiratorial. “I did you a huge favour, so I’ll expect a thank-you after today.”

“Favour?” Alfred asked, slowing his dough-making. “What kind of favour.”

A chuckle.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

* * *

Alfred’s jaw had dropped the moment he entered Arthur’s apartment, and he still hadn’t recovered by the time the other guests began pouring in.

That… that _son of a bitch_ had decided not to go easy on the mistletoe this year. Meaning it was literally EVERYWHERE. You could barely take a step without stepping into the danger zone. Meaning that not only was everybody constantly put to the mercy of these venomously green plants, but Alfred was forced to parkour his way through the rooms to keep avoiding getting kissed.

He didn’t _want_ to kiss anyone- anyone but Ivan that is! But Ivan had noticed the mistletoe as well, and was just as expertly leaping left and right, seeming like an elegant swan dancing through the apartment. All good and well, but it meant that not only was Ivan constantly unavailable to kiss, Alfred had to keep himself unavailable as well (didn’t want anyone else thinking he was desperate for smooches).

“Artie, why did you do this? You’re killing me. See me hurtin’? This is you killing me.”

“Oh, shut up,” Arthur snapped, opening a new bottle of champagne. “I told you I’d provide you with an excuse to kiss the sucker you’ve been crushing on for decades. Well, here it is, now go take your chance!”

Alfred gripped the counter. “How can I take my chance when there’s no chance to be taken? What do you want me to do- stalk him and jump him the moment he loses his balance? Put some mistletoe on my head and waltz right up to him? Don’t you think I’d look just a _little_ desperate?”

Arthur sighed. “Look, how you do it is none of my concern, just do it. Have you even talked to him since he got here?”

“…”

“See? It’s not his fault you’re impossible.”

“Hey!” Alfred huffed, but Arthur had opened the bottle and was waving him off. “Just go talk to him, maybe try being inconspicuous and guide him along while he’s paying attention to you, I don’t know! Just stop whining about wanting to kiss him, and go kiss the poor bastard already!”

Alfred swallowed, at last drooping off (but not before grabbing two glasses, giving him an excuse to make conversation). Escaping both living room and flying through the hallway past a pair who were getting a little too into this mistletoe affair, he finally found Ivan out on the balcony. The other looked up when he heard the door open, smiling at Alfred, who nodded back shyly.

“You out for a break too? It’s kinda hot in there, isn’t it?” _You’re hot_ , he added, hoping the blush wasn’t visible in this lighting.

Ivan nodded, looking back out over the city, lights dancing here and there and everywhere. “ _Da_. Plus, it was getting a little…uncomfortable, with all the people kissing.”

“Haha, yeah,” Alfred said lamely, shuffling closer. “You want some champagne? Someone handed me two glasses, but I only need one.”

Ivan took the offered glass with a small _spasibo_ , smiling that small smirk that made Alfred’s heart skip a beat. “I like looking out over city like this. It is very calming, and beautiful.”

Alfred studied Ivan from the corner of his eye, and heartily agreed. He carefully twirled the glass between his fingers, then raised it. “To…to happy holidays,” he said, unable to think of anything better.

Ivan chuckled, clinking his glass against Alfred’s before taking a sip. Alfred’s heart sped up as he continued to watch Ivan, a friend for so long, secret love interest for what seemed to be so brief compared to that. Was it really worth ruining what they had? Yet as Ivan licked some stray drops of his lips and he felt his stomach knit into a tight knot, he knew he had to kiss him, there was no other way, and Ivan simply _had_ to like him back.

Alfred opened his mouth to speak at exactly the same moment Ivan looked up, and he found the words dying on his tongue, only a nonsensical hackling coming out. Trying to regain his courage, he looked up for some inspiration raining down on him from the heavens, then froze.

“ _Shit_ ,” he hissed under his breath.

Ivan quirked an eyebrow, then looked up as well. He let out a soft noise of understanding, then began chuckling.

Above them, a stray bundle of mistletoe was dangling from what seemed like a fishing rod, leading up to the balcony above theirs. Alfred thought he knew who was responsible for this as he heard laughter sounding like a dying snake coming from the window.

“Gilbert and the guys are being stupid again,” he apologized, but when he looked back at Ivan he froze a second time.

His crush was staring right at him, gaze so intense it made his stomach do a somersault and his knees melt from under his body.

“It is bad luck to ignore it, right?” Ivan asked, delicately putting his glass aside. Alfred had already forgotten all about his- suddenly finding it broken on the stones beneath him. Yet there was no time to say “oops”, there were much more pressing matters than saying “oops”.

Like Ivan taking a step forward, that knowing smile growing, the usually quiet dork morphing into the sexy hulk Alfred knew he could be. A hand was put to his mouth, thumb idly stroking along his lower lip. All Alfred could do was gape up at him, caught by the spell this Russian had cast over him, trying not to faint.

Ivan moved in, stopping mere inches from Alfred’s face, burning violet obscuring his view from everything else- not that he would have noticed even the apocalypse if it were to happen right then and there.

“May I?” Ivan asked, needing reassurance despite looking like he had known Alfred wanted this for centuries- and all Alfred could do was let out a soft whine he would later deny of ever having existed, close his eyes, and immediately feel his mouth being covered by a hungry pair of thin lips.

Alfred sighed, the butterflies in his stomach multiplying by ten, ignoring the wolf whistles that could be heard upstairs. Whether Arthur had exaggerated his “plan” or not, whether his friends knew perfectly how _not_ to set the mood- the end justifies the means, and Alfred got one hell of a happy ending.


	10. All the Times His Hands Were Cold (And the One Time They Were Not)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Ushanka (Hat)
> 
> Every time Ivan puts his hands on Alfred's face, they are cold as ice. All times except for one.

Every time Ivan came to visit Alfred in the winter, he made it a habit to place his icy cold hands over Alfred’s ears, laughing in delight at the screams of terror and bloody murder this evoked from his silly boyfriend.

After what felt like the millionth time of this happening, Ivan had finally resorted to gifting Alfred a ushanka- a nice warm hat that could cover his ears- at least offering him a fighting chance. Alfred put on the hat preemptively whenever he knew Ivan was coming over, which usually resulted in a chase and tickle fight until either Ivan managed to squirm his fingers beneath the fabric or they became distracted by other things.

The ushanka lived through many fights like these, felt Ivan’s cold fingers time after time again. It witnessed fights and make-up sessions, cuddling sessions on the couch, heated discussions and lazy Sunday mornings, the years trickling by at a leisurely pace. In the summer it was stored away, Alfred finding more pleasure in those cool fingers against his heated skin, but every year, the moment the weather turned colder, it was always re-introduced to the family.

It lived through dates and a temporary break-up, through a heartfelt proposal, several moves, a wedding, visiting Ivan’s home during the holidays, puppies and kittens and much smaller hands attached to much smaller bodies. But every year again, on the dot, when Ivan came home from work, the worn-out hat _knew_ it would feel those cold hands struggling to torture freckled skin.

At least, it _seemed_ like that fact was never going to change.

Something began to change, although it may not have been clear _what_ at first sight.

Like the one time Ivan had come home from work to found Alfred waiting, ushanka diligently placed on top of his ever-golden locks (though some streaks of grey were starting to work their way in). No, not today, he was tired today. No- nothing had happened, just tired. The game was postponed.

Or after that, when the hat had been carefully lifted from Alfred’s head by trembling hands, only so Ivan could place a kiss to Alfred’s forehead and tell him how much joy the man had brought him.

The ushanka started being used less and less, as its owner grew worried, more agitated. Instead of the usual lover’s quarrels, more serious fights began reaching the lifeless objects as it waited, sitting on its usual spot between the scarves and fingerless gloves. Words it could never hope to understand passed the revue- doctors, hospitals, who should tell the children, there was treatment, right? Ivan reassuring Alfred one time, screaming at him others.

A year passed, two, without the ushanka being used even once. It simply sat there, waiting, gathering dust, as people whirled past it. Friends and family, unfamiliar faces in white coats, one time a group of men hurrying inside as voices were crying and a loud blaring sound could be heard outside. After that, a long silence, until it was winter again, and finally, the hat felt itself being lifted up again, placed on that familiar head, waiting for their usual game.

This time, Ivan wasn’t the one to place his hands on Alfred’s ears. He had grown thin and weak, Alfred needing to gently guide those once strong hands to his cheeks, placing them there without saying a word, stroking along the sickly pale skin. The hands felt sweaty and- for the first time since the ushanka had been introduced to the family- warm.

“It’s just a side-effect,” Ivan chuckled, voice shaky, “of the treatment, I mean.”

Alfred didn’t reply, wet streaks joining Ivan’s hands on his cheek.

“Alfred… _Moy dorogoy_ , don’t cry…”

“It’s not working, is it? You should be better by now. Not… like this.”

Ivan smiled, softly pressing his palms against Alfred’s cheeks, urging him to come closer. Once again, the hat was slowly removed so Ivan could place a kiss to the forehead of the man he loved. The ushanka fell on the ground, and was forgotten for another while as even more things happened that it could never hope to understand. It was just a hat, after all.

It kept lying there as the children were brought away to stay at Alfred’s parents’ for a while, as Ivan went to the kitchen for a glass of water and fell, and when Alfred came home from work and found him there in that exact same position he was crying, while Ivan was just looking up at him with big unseeing Bambi eyes, “I can’t get up,” laughing at the irony of it, “I fell.”

The house was empty for a small while as the ushanka continued to lie there where it had last fallen, rolled under the coffee table, gathering even more dust, no longer being touched by cold hands.

Weeks seemed to pass, many feet passing by the table without anyone rescuing it from its faith, seemingly forgotten. The house was silent, hushed even when sounds _could_ be heard, as if speaking was forbidden, as if the house itself understood the gravity of what had happened. The hat kept waiting.

Then finally, one day in spring, as one of Alfred and Ivan’s children was vacuuming the house (“Dad, you can’t just lie in bed and do nothing all day, you have _got_ to get out, I can’t stand seeing you like this…”), it was found. Oh, glorious happening, oh frabjous day! It felt so good to be touched again!

The ushanka was carried upstairs, heard knocking to a door. “Dad, look what I found!”

The ushanka’s joy could not be contained (at least, that would have been the case had it been able to feel _anything_ , had it not been, in fact, just a hat). Listening to the soft murmur of voices, desperate hands cradling it close, it was heaven.

The ushanka was cleaned of all the dust it had coated itself with, patched-up where it needed mending. It obediently absorbed the tears that fell onto it, not caring less, as long as it could feel those hands upon it- not Ivan’s, but Alfred’s were a good replacement. They had lived through so much together, after all.

It left the house a final time, driving shotgun as Alfred finally did what his children had begged him to do. Carried through the pearly white gates, the ushanka treasured these moments in which pleasantly soft voices could be heard, flowers could be smelled, and hands were warm but not too warm, the air still crispy with late frost.

Alfred stopped. Carefully placed the ushanka down, introducing the furry hat to its final resting place. _His_ final resting place.

“Remember?” he asked, voice breaking even on that one word. He bit his lips, trying his hardest to keep from sniffling.

“Remember all the times your hands were cold?”


	11. Fireplace Stowaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fireplace
> 
> Ivan wakes up to find a stowaway making use of his fireplace.

Ivan awoke in the middle of the night due to a loud noise coming from downstairs. Always a light sleeper, he was alert in an instant, up and about in the next. Knowing a nine-foot tall Russian bear in some boxer shorts and a black shirt was more intimidating than said Russian in a pink bathrobe (curse that red sock), he decided to forgo dressing up, took hold of the hunting rifle hanging from his bedroom wall, and began making his way downstairs.

Sneaking down the staircase, freezing when he hit the one step that creaked, he thought he could hear someone mumbling in his living room… whoever it was, they were not doing a good job at keeping their presence hidden.

Reaching the final step, Ivan loaded his gun, eyes lighting up like a cat’s as his gaze remained trained on the one door from under which he could see light pouring outside. He took a breath, getting ready, like a tiger about a pounce. Then he leapt, kicking the door open, pointing his gun. The next sound that could be heard was something not even his nightmares could dream up. The room was a flurry of light and animalistic hollering as pillows went flying about, Ivan blinking owlishly. Extremely uncharacteristic behavior for someone who was intruding on private property. Then, as the screaming began to sound familiar and he could see a trembling figure lifting up his couch in an attempt to hide underneath, it clicked.

“Alfred?”

The screaming stopped abruptly, and two blue eyes peered from under his couch. “Oh. It’s just you. Jesus Christ man, you scared me to death! Don’t just point a fucking gun at me for no reason! And why are you in your undies?”

Ivan lowered the gun, tilted his head quizzically, suddenly wishing he hadn’t made the mistake of mixing a white bathrobe with a single red sock. “I… I think it is I who should be asking the questions?” Ivan asked, sounding unsure himself. He watched curiously as Alfred shot away from his hiding spot, returning to a little nest he had made before Ivan’s fireplace, a fire crackling away and lighting up the room.

“Alfred. What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m getting warm in front of the fireplace!” Alfred replied, making it sound like the most logical thing in the world.

Ivan shook his head. “ _Nyet_ , what are you doing HERE, in my house, at…” He looked at the clock. “Almost three in the morning. Should you not be in America?”

At these words, Alfred’s face coloured, grin turning sheepish. “Well uh…” He let out a nervous little laugh. “Would you believe me if I told you we were doing dares, and I had to survive one night in the Russian woods?”

Ivan looked about him. “This is my house. Not the Russian woods.” His eyes narrowed. “Who are _we_?”

Alfred shrugged. “Oh, you know. Just me and the guys. Francis and uh, Gil and-“

Ivan groaned, putting a hand to his forehead. It was too late for this. Or too early. Whatever.

“Alfred, you cannot just break into my house because you-“

“Please?” Alfred asked, and his eyes grew so big and he sounded so desperate that Ivan momentarily forgot what he had been about to say. “I uh… I think I saw something in the woods and I just really, _really_ can’t go out there again.”

Ivan stared at him. “Did you, perhaps, watch- ah, horror movies, before starting this challenge?”

Alfred nodded guiltily. Ivan knew him too well.

Ivan groaned again, finally throwing the gun down, before stomping over to his now-a-guest. “Move over,” he grumbled, Alfred beaming as he made room for Ivan to sit down beside him, in the warm glow of Ivan’s fireplace.

“Thanks a bunch big guy, I owe you one. Oh, and uh, if you could-“

“I shall not tell anyone you went to cower in my home,” Ivan assured him with a roll of the eyes. “Although you will have to repay me some way.”

Alfred grinned, eyes twinkling. “Oh, I think I can come up with a thing or two to pay you back alright.”


	12. Not Exactly a Bundle of Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cuddling
> 
> Alfred gets sick during the holidays, but luckily Ivan rushes in to keep him company.

Snow was falling from the sky, colouring the entire neighbourhood a heavenly white. Children’s laughter could be heard outside, the fire was crackling nice and cosy-like, and all kinds of nostalgia were running over and over on the television screen.

And there on the couch lay Alfred, curled up in several blankets, supported by a mountain of pillows, pitying himself to infinity as he felt utterly miserable due to a heavy fever.

“It’s not fair,” he mumbled hoarsely, couching into his hand as even that action made him ache all over. “Nobody should be sick when it’s almost Christmas.” He’d better be cured when it actually _was_ Christmas, otherwise he’d never be able to get over it.

He groaned loudly (though not as loud as he was usually capable of), hoisting himself to his legs with much difficulty, dragging his blanket fortress behind him as he wobbled over to the front door. The boy opened it, parted his lips to tell his visitor he wasn’t healthy enough to entertain guests, but instead found a bear of a man suddenly stumbling in with bags of all shapes and sizes, spouting gibberish in a foreign tongue and fussing all over him.

“Ivan?” Alfred croaked, barely able to distinguish a flushed nose and messy ashen blond locks before he was swept off his feet- literally. “Wow, what are you- put me do-“ The rest of that sentence was lost into another coughing fit, body convulsing as Ivan quickly carried him back to his nest on the couch.

“I heard you were sick from Matvey. Do not worry Alfred, I will take care of you.” He quickly went back to put his coat away and to carry in his bags. “I bought groceries to make us dinner, extra scarves and blankets in case you get cold, and look!” He conjured up a small plush animal- or at least it looked like an animal, with its huge ears and furry coat.

“You didn’t have to,” Alfred mumbled sleepily, usual stubbornness nowhere in sight, subdued by the shivering hotness taking over his body. Ivan rushed over, placing a cool hand to Alfred’s forehead, almost making him moan in gratitude, closing his eyes to better enjoy the sensation. He was hot and cold all over, and the trembling just wouldn’t stop.

 Alfred’s eyes shot open again when Ivan sat down, after which he promptly began joining Alfred under his numerous blankets. “W-what are you doing? You’ll get sick too!” Plus he was hogging the blankets.

Ivan lay down beside him, only just fitting on the couch, arms wrapped securely around Alfred’s figure. “Does not matter. How do you always say it… No one should be alone during the holidays.”

Alfred felt warm in more than one way, but soon Ivan’s body heat began overpowering the shivers, and he turned towards the other to get more of that delicious warmth. “You didn’t have to,” he repeated, more fondly this time, eyes drooping as he felt that lovable dork of his stroke his back, making sure his sweaty locks steered clear of his eyes, a kiss being placed to the tip of his nose.

“I will stay right here,” Ivan promised, and for a moment Alfred felt there was nothing better than cuddling the fever away.


	13. A Promise of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Colonial/Imperial
> 
> Ivan goes to visit his young friend in the new world.

Ivan wobbled over the deck of his ship, neither stumbling nor possessing the legs of a true sailor. He didn’t mind traveling by both, greatly enjoyed it in fact; he was simply more used to moving on foot. Not that he was really thinking about home right now; not with land in sight. Scanning the horizon, a broad grin spread his lips when he spotted a nimble figure bouncing up and down excitedly along the shore, waving so furiously it seemed like he was about to take flight.

Ivan’s own heart sped up as he impatiently paced up and down the front of the ship, making his tsar laugh at his antics when he emerged from within the ship. While they were here mostly for business, Peter wouldn’t deny his country the pleasure of greeting a friend.

Young Alfred almost fell over his own feet in his rush to reach the dock, all healthy vitality and huge smiles on sunkissed freckles. The very moment the ship arrived, Ivan jumped off and found himself being tackle-hugged by the much smaller nation. He let out a joyous laugh, spinning Alfred around, relishing in the jubilant titters erupting from the other’s chest.

Peter and his entourage got off in a much more orderly fashion, going about their own business with in the New World, which mostly involved further exploration of the country and gathering resources to take home.

Ivan’s smile was almost doting as he held the nimble youth at an arm’s length, looking him up and down. “I could have sworn you were smaller last time,” he said in a heavily accented tongue, English being far less common in his land than French for example.

“I’m growing big!” Alfred replied, proudly puffing out his chest. “I feel a growth spurt coming up, I can feel it, I swear!”

Ivan chuckled, placing a large hand on the small of Alfred’s back and guiding him away from their ship. The pair leisurely strolled along the coastline, caring less and less for the chilly nip creeping under their clothes. This new land, this Alaska, often reminded Ivan of home. Only, back home, he didn’t have Alfred. Alfred was what made this land unique, and every time Ivan looked at those big, inquiring eyes, that curiosity and want to learn more, explore, experience, do whatever he could dream of, Ivan’s chest swelled with fondness. Alfred was going to do great things, he knew it was true.

Alfred kicked up some sand, letting out a boisterous laugh. “You are just in time for Christmas! You are staying, right?”

Ivan rubbed up and down Alfred’s back, smile deepening. “You know, our Christmas is not until January.”

At this confession, Alfred’s eyes grew even brighter. “Really?”

Ivan nodded. “Really.” How easy it was to entertain the youngster! Yet how interesting his reactions.

Alfred looked at his feet, shoes abandoned in favour of letting the sand slip through his toes. “Hey Ivan?”

“Yes?”

When Alfred looked up again, his cheeks were coloured, eyes flashing fierce determination. “Arthur said I can’t- but I want to spend Christmas with you sometime. Russian Christmas!” He nodded to himself. “Please? You _have_ to let me come some time!”

Ivan stopped, turning the other so they were facing one another, regarding his dear friend with a serious expression. Alfred squirmed under his stern gaze, yet refused to break eye contact in his innocent defiance.

Ivan smiled again, leaning over to place a kiss to Alfred’s scalp. “Of course you can come.”

Alfred’s eyes sparkled even brighter. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Now?”

“Later.”

“Oh.” His expression dropped again. Ivan barked out laughter, clasping his shoulder.

“But I promise you, later will come sooner than you think.”

“I will keep you to that promise!” Alfred shot back, and Ivan could suddenly see Alfred’s imagined growth spurt in all its glory, knew it wouldn’t be long before this child grew up to be a man.

“I will be waiting,” he mumbled, both curious and confident that everything would turn out fine.


	14. I Believe I Can Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sledding
> 
> Alfred wants to give his sled wings.

Alfred was all but trembling with excitement, looking down the steep ledge spreading out before him.

“Ready?” Ivan asked, standing behind him, comforting weight of his hands present on Alfred’s back.

The boy looked over his shoulder, nodding a single time. “Send me flying, big guy!”

Ivan smiled, before giving a small push. Alfred felt his body jolt forward, before the sled followed. His world seemed to tip as he began sliding down the hill, going from slow to immeasurably fast within mere moments. His mouth formed a soundless “oh” of surprise, eyes comically wide. Then the laughing started; jubilant titters to accompany the pounding of his heart and the butterflies coiling in his stomach.

He was heavily leaning forward on the sled to keep it balanced, arms and legs pushed down forcedly against the object and back curled, cat-like. The wind was racing through his ears, and he felt his eyes tear up as he was unable to blink against the onslaught of whiteness and cold. He zigzagged between evergreens, snorting when he had to duck beneath a branch and felt some of the frozen goo land on top of him.

Then, he saw it: a rock, ramp-like in every way. Alfred steered his sled towards it, given no time to mentally or physically prepare himself before impact…

He couldn’t believe his eyes. One moment he was on solid ground, and the next he was _flying_. Everything seemed to slow down in that one, glorious moment, a moment of wonder as he felt himself making an elegant swan dive…

Only to find himself tumbling into the snow the very next moment. He kept rolling for a few, unable to will his body into obedience. Unable to determine what was up or down or left or right, he trusted mother nature to take care of him, not let him break anything, he’d only just escaped the hospital when he broke his wrist during baseball practice-

He stopped. Heart thundering, he remained quiet for just a moment, feeling around, checking. Nothing seemed to hurt too badly; no more than it _should_ be hurting at least, after taking such a fall. He carefully pushed himself up when he heard footsteps crunching through the snow behind him, labored breathing reaching him before he could correct his askew glasses.

“Alfred, are you okay?” Ivan asked, out of breath as he leant over his boyfriend. Alfred nodded, the other sighing in relief before carefully helping him up and then pulling him to a broad chest.

“I hope it was fun.”

Alfred’s wide grin said enough; no explanation needed.

It had been _amazing_.


	15. Just Like the Sports Anime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Ice Skating
> 
> After watching a certain show, Alfred insists on Ivan teaching him the ways of the rink.

Ivan knew something was up when he woke up to find Alfred standing at the foot of his bed, holding a pair of ice skates.

Alfred never showed that much interest in the rink; he preferred baseball and other ball sports, or a good swim over summer. He never teased Ivan about his “girly” sports; knowing ballet and ice skating required a set of legs he could only dream of, but he’d never really wanted to try it out himself.

“Why this sudden change of mind, _dorogoy_?” Ivan asked as they were gearing up, having eaten only a sober breakfast before he had been dragged over to the rink.

Alfred shrugged off his nonchalance, but the faint pink dusting his cheeks betrayed that something other than “just felt like it” had prompted this sudden want to learn the art. Not that Ivan would be able to teach Alfred that much in one session- it had taken him years to master the craft and perfect his skills.

Ivan stepped on first, smiling as he easily slid along the curves of the field, feeling in his element right away. He went for a little warming up; breathing in the cold as he slowly twirled and turned, stretching his muscles and getting his feet once again adjusted to the skates. He only stopped when he found himself getting stared at, smiling before skating over to Alfred, who was making googly-eyes at him. “Ready?”

Alfred perked up, nodding, taking an excited step onto the ice. Before immediately starting to slip and slide, wildly flailing his arms in an attempt not to fall. Ivan had to intervene, rushing in to grab Alfred under the armpits and hold him up, fondly shaking his head. “I will lead you around, _da_? To get you used to the ice.”

Alfred didn’t object, although he _did_ look slightly peeved at the fact that he didn’t prove to be a natural at the art. He remained silent as Ivan pressed him to his chest, torso following the curl of Alfred’s spine, before slowly starting to glide forward, moving their feet in unison.

“This always makes me feel peaceful,” he sighed, folding his hands on top of Alfred’s stomach, enjoying the other’s warmth. He propped his chin on a shoulder. “Do not sulk, sunflower. You will learn.”

“I just wanna be able to do the cool stuff!” Alfred finally translated his pettiness. “You know, all the spins and the lutzes and the-“

Ivan stopped, quirking an eyebrow. “How do you know what a lutz is, dearest?” He _knew_ there was a secret reason behind this.

Alfred spluttered for a bit, before puckering his lips, focusing his gaze on some far-off point over at the tribunes. “You know… There’s this new show, where they do all sorts of cool ice skating stuff-“

“The sports anime?” Ivan asked, second eyebrow joining the first. “I did not know you liked that.”

“And I didn’t know you watched anime!” Alfred protested, whirling around (needing to be saved anew). “Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve watched together!”

Ivan laughed, patting the other on the head. “I simply did not take you for one finding interest in shows about ice skating.”

“Dude, I like _all_ anime! Okay, maybe not all all, but still more than you!”

“We shall watch the final episode together then,” Ivan tried to make it up, satisfied when Alfred beamed. Less so when his smile turned sweet, almost venomously so- a request?

“So… Think you can show off some jumps?” There it was, right on cue.

Ivan laughed, guiding Alfred back to the entrance to assure himself his lover wouldn’t fall while he was preoccupied, before turning around. Starting to move to music only he could hear, Ivan moved his robust yet surprisingly elegant body over the ice, side-stepping and waving his hands, as if performing a dance only he knew the steps to. Knowing Alfred was watching him, he let himself slide back before rushing forward, building speed… A single step, he leapt, twisting and turning mid-air, spinning once, twice, thrice… He barely managed to make it four times, but low and behold, he landed without hands touching the ground.

Breathing slightly more heavily, he turned around when hearing applause, dipping into a grand bow. He felt his muscles sigh in relief; he hadn’t been skating that often lately, and starting with such a jump without any preparation could have ended badly. Still, he had managed to pull it off, and could now proudly puff out his chest as he made his way back to his number one fan.

Opening his mouth to say something, later realizing he had completely forgotten what it was, he suddenly found himself with an armful of Alfred, gushing all over him, placing kisses on every part of skin he could reach. Ivan laughed, pride turning into teasing banter, and later, promises of repeat if Alfred was a good boy.


	16. Frozen Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Snowman
> 
> Alfred makes himself a friend out of snow.

Two buttons for the eyes, a carrot for the nose… Alfred stepped back, observing his handiwork. The snowman he had been working on for at least an hour, fingers numb and nose flushed red, looked quite good already. He had managed to gather as much snow as he could, piling it onto one giant of a snowman. Alfred felt like he was getting better and better at the craft! Still, something seemed to be missing, something crucial. It was as if those beady black eyeless eyes were silently requesting another accessory, something to make it- him, complete. This snowman was definitely a him; Alfred knew it as certain as he could spell his own name (which he could, correctly, ever since he turned five).

Head whipping around, he waited for something- a sign, an epiphany, a sudden revelation that would give him exactly what he needed to finish this work of art. Gaze automatically wandering back to the frozen creature, he wondered what the man would have been like had he been human. He looked to be the perfect height for amazing bear hugs, warm and delightful- warm! Of course, what was he thinking? The snowman still needed a scarf and a hat!

Alfred fled back inside, rummaging through the closet in the hallway until he found exactly what he was looking for.

“I’m back, I’m back!” he called before heading out, as if not wanting his creation to worry, like a baby thinking its mother gone the moment it left its sight. “Sorry buddy, we only have this fuzzy Russian hat left that I used for a school play. All the wool ones are gone. But you don’t mind, do you?”

He balanced the hat on top of his new friend’s head, stared into those buttons for eyes for just a moment, before grinning and stepping back again, giving himself enough room to drape the scarf over that snowy neck. It was the longest one they had, and he had to wind it around, again and again, before he finally ran out of fabric.

Alfred crossed his arms, nodding in self-satisfaction. “There. Perfect. You look ten times warmer already!” He held his hands up in a square, as if ready to take the snowman’s picture. No response came, although the frozen smile of the being was as warm as Alfred could imagine it to be.

He stayed outside for a while longer, gathering more snow to make a cat for his new buddy, before running inside for dinner and a hot mug of cocoa with marshmallows to satiate his blue hands.

And when everyone went to sleep, the last light blipping from existence, the smile grew further still.


	17. Sugar and Spice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Baking Cookies
> 
> Alfred keeps getting distracted over a break-up while trying to bake cookies. Luckily he has a best friend who knows exactly what to do in situations like these.

Alfred was crying loudly while stirring dough to make cookies. He hated turned on some jolly Christmas tunes earlier, volume at its loudest as the speakers blasted music through his cosy kitchen, but to no avail. He would have blamed it to the onions, only there were none. Salty tears kept dripping onto the spoon, and at one point he felt like just giving up and eating the whole bowl raw, fuck the results. Had the cookies been for him, he would have submitted to the urge a long time ago.

Sniffing loudly, he rubbed his wet nose along a sleeve, whimpering at how disgusting he found himself. He jolted when his phone suddenly rang, nearly dropping the bowl. Alfred put it to the side, hiccupped once, then tried to keep his voice steady while answering the phone.

“H-hello?”

“Alfred, are you crying?”

Fuck. It was Ivan. Of course it was. Who else would be calling him at this late hour, like some sort of psychic knowing he like to pretend to be an insomniac at times?

Ivan saw right through his façade, and the moment he heard that heartbeat of alarm, the dam broke. He started blubbering and sobbing all over again, clinging to his phone like a drowning person would to a lifebelt. _Ivan_ was his lifebelt, always being there right when he needed him most. His best friend since high school.

“Alfred, what is the matter?” Ivan asked, listening carefully as Alfred’s story came pouring out, shocking and quavering. His boyfriend had broken up with him. Right now, in this most special period of the year, when one wanted to be with loved-ones. Well, apparently Alfred’s boyfriend did have a loved-one- it just wasn’t Alfred.

“I am coming.”

“What?” Alfred squawked, voice high-pitched. “Y-you can’t! It’s the middle of the night.”

“I am putting my coat on right now,” Ivan said.

“It’s freezing! You live half an hour away! And I don’t have time for crying, I have to finish these- uh…”

Unperturbed by Alfred’s arguments, Ivan continued, “I will be there soon. Keep the door unlocked.” And then the call ended, Alfred sputtering into an empty beep.

The blond dutifully dragged his protesting feet over to the front door and undid the lock, chest still heaving and body quivering, a new wave of tears waiting right behind the front lines, ready to pounce. His hands were still sticky with flour, and he kept trying to clean them on his whitening baggy jeans.

He swallowed deeply when the door finally opened, a perfectly determined-looking and dishevelled Ivan appearing before him, like a guardian angel intervening to protect their charge. The sobs flowed right out when two big arms enveloped him in a crushing hug, and he took a moment to just cry his gut out, feeling weak and miserable, and not at all how a friend should behave. Ivan had been there for him so many times already, when was it his turn to give something back?

When the biggest wave finally reached the shoreline, he withdrew, beckoning the other further into the house. On socked feet he advanced, grabbing a tissue and quickly blowing his nose while Ivan took off his boots and coat (always boots, or socked sandals in summer, the monster).

“Sorry.”

“Never apologize for something like this,” Ivan warned him, Alfred’s lips slapping together to keep himself from saying anything else. Ivan followed him like a shadow, ready to pick up where they left off the embrace might it be necessary. But it seemed like most of it had left his system, and he was left to hiccupping every now and then.

“I was uh…” He scratched his neck, red swollen eyes flitting up. Jabbing a thumb in the direction of his kitchen, he manned up. “I was baking some cookies, if you’d like some of the dough? I was almost done.”

Ivan smiled, shaking his head. “Your cookies, your spoon-licking.” Alfred knew this was a huge sacrifice; Ivan was the biggest sweet tooth he’d ever met. Still, he felt like correcting the other.

“Well uh… Actually, these were for you.”

Ivan’s eyebrows shot up to disappear beneath his wind-ruffled bangs. “For me? What for?”

Alfred shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “I was hoping uh… I know you usually spend the holidays with your sister, but maybe if- if you’d have like, a day off somewhere, you could spend it with me?” He squirmed uncomfortably under that questioning gaze. “It’s been a while since I spend some time with my buddy, a-and I know it’s my fault, because I was dating and we were both busy with work and-“

He felt panic once again rising in his chest, but Ivan smothered it with one big hand clasping his shoulder. Then another hug. A promise, whispered in his ear. “I always have time for you, Alfred.”

And when something warm spread in his stomach, he knew he’d get over the break-up. As long as he had Ivan, everything was all right.


	18. Friendly Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Snowball Fight
> 
> Alfred is having a friendly competition with his buddies, until he accidentally throws a snowball at his crush.

“Gonna get you now!”

Alfred screamed with laughter as he ducked behind a car, several snowballs flying over the vehicle and colliding with the window behind. He quickly rolled a new projectile of his own, whipped up and threw it, like a snake uncoiling split-second. When he touched down again, he heard someone snort- target had been destroyed. One down, three more to go.

He did a barrel roll to escape from behind the car, after which he scrambled up and made a run for it. Gilbert swept up behind him, grabbing the boy by the waist and pushing some flurry down his neck.

“Nooooo!” Alfred hollered, struggling wildly, squirming to break free. Gilbert cackled in his ear, pushing off and watching Alfred stumble forward. Meanwhile the others were stocking up on ammunition as well, ready to fight back now that their biggest opponent was distracted. But Alfred wouldn’t just give away this victory- he rolled up a ball with the swiftness of an expertise, whirled around and threw-

“Ow!”

Alfred covered his mouth with both hands while Gilbert, Arthur and Kiku ducked out of sight. Neither of the them had been hit; instead, Alfred had accidentally hurled a snowball straight at his long-time crush and upperclassman, Ivan Braginsky. The pale blond looked ruffled-up and bewildered, books and papers having been dropped to the ground.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” Alfred finally squeaked, once again having found his tongue. He rushed in when the other bent over to pick up his belongings, quickly helping him gather his things. “I meant to hit one of the other guys, I really should’ve looked-“

“Is okay,” Ivan mumbled with a shake of the head, pausing when he looked up, eyes scrunching. “Ah- you are Alfred, right? Alfred Jones?”

Alfred’s heart skipped a beat. “Y-yeah, that’s me!” he said, balancing on his heels as he handed over a final bundle of papers. Ivan took it, checking the amount of them before nodding.

“It is a good coincidence I happen to bump into you here. I am looking for someone to help setting up the stage for the school play, since someone fell sick. I heard you were interested?”

Alfred had indeed applied once he heard Ivan was part of the theme creating this year’s play, but they had already had too many people helping. Now, he was nodding so furiously he like he was about to give himself a whiplash. “Yup, I am! I’d be happy to help!”

Ivan smiled one of those smiles that made Alfred’s heart stop, before straightening. “Wonderful. I expect you in the gym tonight then.”

As the other left, Alfred continued squatting in the snow for a little while, staring after him with a dumbfound expression. He was going to spend the night with Ivan. He and Ivan, alone. Well, not entirely alone, but alone enough to make small talk, maybe even get Ivan to tutor something or other for him so they could spend even _more_ time together?

His expression turned dreamy, grin dopey. It didn’t even disappear when Gilbert snuck up on him and emptied an entire backpack of snow over his head.


	19. Missing Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Traditions
> 
> Alfred and Ivan have a little talk about Christmas traditions.

“Why do you always put a tree up with Christmas?”

Alfred put down the newspaper he had been reading, gaping open-mouthed at his boyfriend, seated across the room.

“You’re kidding. Right?”

Ivan shrugged, genuine curiosity in the way with which he regarded the marvelous Christmas tree standing in the corner of the room. “I was just wondering if it has some kind of meaning.”

Alfred opened his mouth, closed it. Threw his hands up to make exaggerated movements. “Be- _cause_ , Ivan! It’s tradition! You _have_ to get a tree during the holidays! No home would be complete without it!”

“We never had that tradition,” Ivan mused, putting a finger to his lips as he contemplated the notion. “Did you know that Christmas trees were forbidden in the Soviet Union at one point?”

Alfred muttered a quick “party poopers” under his breath before jumping to his feet and marching over to the other. “Okay, I think it’s time I go show you some other traditions, cuz you’re sounding like you’ve been deprived of a LOT of fun.”

Ivan giggled as he was pulled up, following behind his fiercely marching American.

“So, you didn’t do Christmas trees?”

“ _Nyet_.”

“What about dinner with the family?”

“We do have family dinners, just not on the 25th of December.”

“Singing carols? Gifts? Helping out your fellow human beings??” Alfred’s tone was getting more disbelieving with each question that left his mouth. Was this monster truly his boyfriend?

He was jerked back when Ivan suddenly halted, reeling him in. He had a secretive little smile on his lips.

“There is a tradition I _am_ familiar with,” he said softly, eyes shooting up, directing Alfred’s gaze to the small sprig of weeds hanging above them.

Alfred blushed, then sent the other a cool smile. “Yeah yeah, of course you’d know about _that one_ , you dirty sleaze. But I’m telling you, I’m gonna teach you about the other stu-“

Cut off by a soft pair of lips, Alfred was momentarily distracted from educating the other on the fine traditions that came with his beloved holiday.


	20. More Than One Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Snowed In
> 
> It's difficult leaving after a one-night stand when the snow has locked you inside.

Just one night. That’s all Alfred had to give to him. One night of forgetting all responsibilities, of escaping real life, of pure pleasure. That’s what it _should_ have been.

“Um… Ivan?” he asked, hoping he still remembered the other’s name correctly. He was standing by the window, stomach churning as he looked outside. A rustle of fabric behind him warned him of the fact that his companion for the night was waking up, probably blinking blearily against the light with those strangely coloured eyes that had drawn Alfred in.

“What is it?” he croaked, voice sexily hoarse with sleep, and Alfred felt a shudder run up his spine. He pulled the blanket he had tossed over his shoulders closer, and nodded.

“I think… I think we’re snowed in.”

Some more movement, groaning, as the other got up and slowly made his way over. Alfred froze when Ivan appeared beside him, unsure of how to behave. It wasn’t like him to bring someone home for the night, and he wished he had thought about the morning after beforehand. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it- he simply didn’t know how to continue now that the deed was done.

Ivan cursed softly in his mother tongue, before sighing. “It seems like we are.” He curiously eyed Alfred, still drowsy after the long nap. “I am sorry for imposing on you longer than necessary.”

Alfred felt something twitch in his stomach, and before he knew it he was word-vomiting again. “Oh, I don’t mind! I mean- I do mind the snow of course, sucks that we can’t leave, and you probably wanna go home anyway, but I mean, it’s still early, and uh, we might as well have breakfast and I totally get it if you’re upset but I’d like it if we could-“

Ivan put a finger to his lips, successfully putting a stop to it all. He smiled.

“I would like that very much, Alfred.”

It turned out being stuck in the house was the best thing that could have happened to them.


	21. Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Family Dinner
> 
> Ivan is absolutely certain the dinner over at Alfred's house is a complete disaster.

Ivan wished he could disappear, which was easier said than done for a guy his stature. Even now, as Alfred was happily chattering away with his twin brother, he could feel all kinds of disapproving eyes upon his skin.

It was the very first time they were all eating dinner together, as a family. Ivan and Alfred had been dating for over a year now, but somehow they hadn’t managed to get both families together in one room as of yet, until now at least.

All in all, things were going horribly.

Upon entering he had tripped over his feet and almost broken Matthew’s favourite hockey stick by falling into a closet. He had also forgotten the bottle of wine he’d brought for Alfred’s fathers in the car so he had to get back out to get it, door falling shut behind him so that he had to ring the bell again. For whatever reason, Katyusha was telling stories from when he was still a toddler (like the one time he had worn a tutu). Natalya was being her charming self, but Ivan wouldn’t want to try and change her anyway. Francis kept making insinuations towards their sex life. And Arthur… he was absolutely certain Arthur would gladly strangle him, whether it be because he “wasn’t good enough for his precious child”, or because he found the Russian to be offensive in any way possible. Luckily there was Matthew- but then again, Matthew could still be a problem, seeing as he had accidentally walked in on them that one time…

Needless to say, Ivan was more than happy when he got the opportunity to escape to the balcony for a moment. He patted his pockets, before remembering he had stopped smoking a long time ago. _God_ did he need it now though.

He stiffened when the door behind him slid open, relaxed when it was only Alfred.

“Hey. How you holding up?”

Ivan shook his head, sighing when the other wrapped his arms around him. “I am probably disowned by your parents by now.”

“Really?” Alfred asked, quirking his eyebrows. “How so?”

“Can you not tell?” Ivan returned, exasperated. “They must hate me! Arthur keeps looking at me like I am the devil, and Francis-“

“Wow, you really think that means he hates you?” Alfred cut him off, laughing. “Don’t worry about it babe, he hates everyone I dare bring home!”

“That is not very reassuring,” Ivan grumbled, pursing his lips when Alfred leant up to prop his chin atop a shoulder.

“Nah, believe me. You wouldn’t even be in the house if he _really_ hated you. Actually, I think he likes you a lot! A lot more than my previous boyfriend, anyways.”

Ivan wished he could stop Alfred from talking about past relations. Still, he needed to ask. “Really? How so?”

Alfred laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Well, for one, he hasn’t tried feeding you dessert yet.”

And Alfred laughed as Ivan sourly pinched his nose. Still, he was in a slightly better mood when returning back inside… Only to feel that mood plummet when Arthur announced that he was baking cookies.  He really prayed that Alfred had been exaggerating with his stories of Arthur’s cooking.


	22. Little Box, Big Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Shopping
> 
> Ivan wonders what Alfred is hiding under his shirt.

Ivan was positively exhausted.  His feet were aching as they were allowed a moment’s rest, about a dozen of bags nestled beside him on the bench on which he had taken his refuge. How did Alfred always manage to drag him along to do Christmas shopping, even when he knew fully well that going here this time of the year was pure suicide?

Ivan watched Alfred flit in and out of several stores at the other end of the square, searching for some trinket or other. That little ball of energy simply _adored_ Christmas shopping, as if the holidays energized him in ways Ivan couldn’t possibly hope to understand. Alfred was a strange little man, but Ivan loved him.

The Russian tiredly bent over to take off his shoe, rubbing along a socked foot.  Whatever Alfred was searching for, Ivan hoped he would find it soon. He wanted to go back home, soak in a long hot bath and then eat the leftover piroshkies he had stored away for them in the fridge. He’d leave the task off storing all their purchases away to Alfred; about ninety percent of it was his anyway.

Ivan smiled fondly as he eyed a small pink bag. He was absolutely certain his younger sister would appreciate the necklace, matching her eyes and presumably a perfect fit around her slender neck. And Alfred had been right; Katyusha _would_ enjoy something handmade, so it had been a good idea to stock up on wool and coloured thread. Alfred seemed to be extra focused when making his Christmas purchases, very unlike his usual shopping behaviour (how many times had Ivan scolded him for coming home with chips and only chips when their list had mentioned a handful of other items and NO chips at all?).

Ivan looked up when he caught sight of a bright figure speeding his way, chest looking extra puffy, as if he had stored something inside his coat. Alfred’s nimble figure skidded to a halt right next to the bench, all beaming smiles and sunshine.

“Okay, I’m ready to go home!” he chirped, practically buzzing with excitement.

Ivan tilted his head, looking pointedly at the obvious lump in Alfred’s clothes. “So, did you buy anything? Or are you just happy to see me?”

Alfred protectively clasped his arms over his chest, laughing nervously (yet somehow Ivan felt like Alfred _wanted_ him to notice). “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m driving this time!” And with that he snatched several bags from the bench, spun on his heels, and began marching in the general direction of the parking lot.

Ivan quickly scooped up the remainder of their purchases before following behind, almost immediately falling into Alfred’s rhythm.

“Why will you not show me?” Ivan asked playfully, pawing at his boyfriend’s stomach, laughing when Alfred jumped to the side.

“Hey, knock it off! No looksies!”

“Why, is it something for me?” Ivan purred, not all _that_ curious, but it was just too much fun to tease the other.

Ivan jerked to a sudden halt when Alfred began blushing. He took a moment of processing when his boyfriend tried to make his escape, before once again speeding after him. “It _is_ something for me!” he called, semi-accusingly.

“Can’t hear you!” Alfred cackled loudly, sprinting the final distance from the main hall to the elevator, panting softly when Ivan jumped in right before the doors slid shut. His grin was shaky when Ivan cornered him, bags abandoned on the elevator floor as he pinned Alfred against the wall.

“What did you buy me, _lapushka_?”

“No,” Alfred laughed fiercely, shaking his head. “Can’t tell. It’ll mean bad luck!”

His breath hitched when Ivan leant in, nose following along his jaw before tipping his glasses askew. “I will tell you what your present is if you tell me.”

“You got me something?” Alfred mumbled, blinking rapidly. His hands were still protectively holding the lump, like a mother would her child.

“Of course.” Ivan slid his hand down Alfred’s coat, fingers spread and palm feeling the fabric of the garment. “Please tell me?”

Alfred swallowed and Ivan pulled back to look at him, surprised to see his face flushed all the way, lips pursed forcedly. Whatever could his gift be to make Alfred act like this? This… how to describe his behaviour?

“W-well, I was gonna wait until later… Ah, what the heck!”

Alfred placed a hand against Ivan’s chest, forcing the other to take a step back. The elevator doors slid open, but both ignored it. A bag was produced from inside Alfred’s coat, something from one of the jewellery stores they had passed earlier today.

Ivan’s heart stopped when Alfred produced a small box from within the bag, locked eyes with him, and slowly dropped to one knee. All earlier playfulness was gone, as if it had never existed.

“Ivan Braginsky,” he began solemnly, and that sound was so uncharacteristically Alfred that Ivan felt laughter bubble up, but he kept it in of course, not wanting to spoil this. His hands were trembling.

“We’ve been dating for a long time now,  and I’ve always felt like… Like, you’re both my best friend and the one I can tell anything to, and I love waking up in the morning and seeing your sleepy eyes, or watching sports on TV and giving our own points or narrating the players’ lives, or just going out for a beer or a cup of coffee or…” He knew he was rambling, Ivan could see it in his eyes, but neither wanted to speed through this.

“What I’m trying to say is… I think I found my soulmate, a-and I love you. Ivan Braginsky, I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So…” He finally opened up the Prussian blue box, showing a delicate golden ring. “Will you marry me?”

Almost before Alfred was given the chance to utter that sentence, Ivan had grabbed him by the collar, lifted him up in one fluid motion, and smacked their faces together in a chaste kiss. Alfred only struggled a little bit at first, before deciding to just let Ivan get this out of his system and enjoy the moment. Ivan opened his eyes a little when he could hear people applauding- apparently they’d had witnesses standing just outside the elevator all along. Good for them.

Slowly pulling away, he smiled against Alfred’s lips. “Of course. There is no one I would rather be with than you.”

And Ivan simply adored the smile Alfred flashed him next, huge and relieved and perfectly thrilled, surrounded as they were by four-by-four metal walls, shopping bags, and a bunch of strangers cheering them on.


	23. At Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Winter Solstice/Yule
> 
> Alfred wants to watch the sunset on the shortest day of the year.

“Jesus Christ it’s so cold I’m gonna freeze my balls off!”

“You are the one who wanted to have a picnic in the winter.”

“Yeah and I still do, but fuck!”

Both men strolled up the snow-dusted hill, Alfred holding a picnic basket, Ivan bringing the champagne. It had indeed been Alfred’s idea to celebrate the winter solstice by eating outside and watching the early sunset, but Ivan would be lying if he’d said he had opposed it for even one moment.

“It’s already starting,” Ivan mumbled, to which Alfred gasped and urged them on to quickly spread out the red-and-white checkered blanket, stalling out their wares as if they were ready to spend the morning on a local market.

“Oh good, the jelly didn’t spill!” Alfred exclaimed upon opening the box with their dessert, promptly almost dropping it upside down. Ivan quickly popped the cork on the bottle of champagne and poured their glasses, only pausing when Alfred wouldn’t pulling at his sleeve.

“Alfred, I am going to spill all over-“

“Vanya, look!”

The rest of Ivan’s complaints died on his tongue, and he settled on just pinching Alfred’s cheek, but the blond was too distracted and only absentmindedly waved him off.

Beautiful pinks and purples and blues and a twinge of dark crimson coloured the darkening sky, painting the canvas into a breath-taking assault on the senses. Ivan felt Alfred’s hand searching for his own and quickly clasped it, fingers entangling as they watched with open mouths and twinkling eyes.

“ _Krasniy_ ,” Ivan mumbled, breathing in deeply when Alfred let himself flop against his shoulder, food forgotten for just a moment in favour of enjoying the view.

“Worth freezing my balls off,” Alfred sighed, ever the romantic.

Still, Ivan could only agree as they watched the sun sink behind the horizon, wintry starlight shining down upon their combined forms.


	24. Cold Hands, Warm Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Gift Giving
> 
> Ivan did not expect Alfred showing up on his doorstep in the middle of the night, nor could he have seen the gift coming.

Ivan opened his eyes to the first snowfall of the year. Small, white glittering things, slowly fluttering to the ground outside his window. Despite feeling the joy of his children dancing through his veins, like little pin pricks, he moaned and buried himself deeper under the blankets. His toes felt colder already, fingertips unable to heat up. Ivan very much disliked winter. It was cold, and white, and a whole season of waiting before spring finally arrived. He often dreamt about going into hibernation during these months, waking up to a warmer country of smiles and flowers and hands that didn’t feel like they had died a long time ago.

Someone ringing his doorbell made him pause. Sit up. Listen for a sound. Who could that be? His boss never visited him at home. His sisters never came to him this early. Others… Others didn’t come unless invited.

“Ivaaaaaaaaaaaan!” came a loud voice, piercing through a heavy door and several floors of house.

Ah. A moment of clear thoughts. He recognized that voice. Then, more confusion. What on earth would Alfred be doing at his house, so early in the morning on a cold December day?

“L-let me in dude, I’m f-freezing my balls off out here!”

Ivan rolled his eyes. He doubted it was cold enough to lose even a finger. Nevertheless, his curiosity was piqued, sending him into his loafers and robe, although he didn’t forget to pick up his beloved faucet (in earlier years he would have gone for the gun, but lately he trusted Alfred not to be idiotic enough to start a gunfight at the home of the personification of the Russian Federation).

Walking down the stairs at a leisurely pace, he took comfort in the incessant ringing of his bell, somehow seeming to warm up his humble abode. To his surprise he found patches of ice caking his window; apparently it was even colder than he had thought when first waking up.

“Ivaaaan, I swear, if you’re gonna lehet me s-s-stand outside here and freeze to death I- I’m so gonna sue your big fat a- oh hi.”

Ivan opened his front door to an American popsicle, wrapped in at least three thick winter coats, a cap _and_ earmuffs, snow boots, and _still_ he was shivering and holding on tight as if he were about to explode.

“F-finally!” that strange nation breathed, flying inside- or at least trying to. He found himself stopped but a sudden knee separating his body from the inside of Ivan’s mansion. “D-dude, let me in already!”

“And why should I be doing that?” Ivan asked smoothly, thoroughly enjoying the angry leer with his name on it.

“B-because you’re a nation, I’m a n-nation, and it would be bad for you if I d-died in your country!”

Ivan took a moment to contemplate Alfred’s arguments, practically feeling Alfred’s blood temperature rising (was that not exactly what he wanted?), before making a show of admitting defeat. “I suppose you make a valid point. It would be bad for my image if some silly American who is very ill-prepared for light snow flurries (“IT’S A FUCKING STORM OUT HERE!”) to be found dead on my porch. I will let you warm up by the fire before chasing you off of my property, then.”

“Thank God!” Alfred hissed, not even waiting for the other to stop blocking his way before rushing inside, simply pushing past him and heading straight to the living room (Ivan was only half surprised he still knew where it was from his last visit, but then again, he used to visit a lot more often). “Jesus fucking tap-dancing Christ, why’s it cold in here too?!”

“I have yet to light the fire,” Ivan said with a shrug, closing the door behind him before watching his guest hurry over to the fire place, immediately making himself at home by starting up a fire himself. “And I do not turn on the heater unless it drops below a certain temperature.” Scraping his throat. “Did Arthur ever teach you manners?”

Alfred cast a Look at him, clearly unimpressed, before his eyes dropped. “Nice undies.”

His cheeks suddenly felt slightly warmer than the rest of his body as Ivan sullenly closed the robe around him. He had forgotten he was wearing the pair of Cheburashka boxers his sister had gifted him for his birthday last year. Then again, it was Alfred’s fault for barging in on him at such an unholy hour.

Ivan tilted his head, listening to some victorious titters as the fire sparked alive. “You have yet to tell me to what I owe this… pleasure.”

Before giving Ivan his answer like a normal person would do, Alfred began stripping out of two layers of coats, leaving on the other two while he roasted by the fire. “I was… in the neighbourhood.”

Ivan cocked his head to the side, not even needing to tell the other he would have to further explain himself.

“I had business in Alaska, okay?” Alfred elaborated, keeping his face turned to the fire. “And then it began snowing so I decided to just… pop in for a moment.”

Head tilted to the other side, eyes narrowed, playful smile playing with his lips. “Alaska is still more near your home than mine. Why would you go to me, in the middle of the night, when it is snowing? Would you not rather escape to one of your beaches?”

Alfred shuffled about for a bit. Opened up the third coat, grabbing something Ivan couldn’t see. He felt alert for just a moment, before an unidentifiable objects was thrusted toward him. He blinked, slowly, cat-like.

“I just thought, with all this madness, we won’t get to see each other before the year’s out. A-and I know your birthday’s coming up, but Christmas too! Christmas definitely. So I thought, might as well drop by while I still got time, cuz I’ll be busy all month after this.”

Ivan could hardly believe his ears. Was this… a present? For him? How queer. Alfred hadn’t given him anything of the kind since… Well, since a long time ago.

Ivan delicately pinched the item between thumb and index finger. “Are you certain this is not a bomb, or some other ploy to incapacitate me?”

“Just open it already,” Alfred grumbled, finally stealing a glance over his shoulder, obviously anxious to see Ivan’s reaction. Alfred’s excitement somehow managed to make Ivan slightly more engrossed.

Delicately unwrapping what was clearly wrapped by Alfred’s own hands (never mind the space wrapping paper; he’d recognize Alfred’s hand anywhere). It was a small doll, something he’d recognize anywhere. Made by his own people. Only, this one looked strangely like….

“Is this supposed to represent me?” Ivan asked skeptically, tracing a finger over a painted sunflower.

Alfred made an impatient noise, looking flustered for some reason. “If you don’t want it you can just give it back-“

“ _Nyet_ ,” Ivan cut him off, protectively cradling the object to his chest. “It is mine now. You gave it to me.” Suddenly feeling jittery, he let out a giggle- controlled of course, but still it had been a long time since he’d laughed in front of Alfred.

Alfred’s face almost split in two by the smile he allowed to overtake him, and for a moment everything seemed right, just the two of them by the fire, all those years had never happened, and the snow was fluttering to the ground outside. For a moment, everything was perfect.


	25. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Christmas Eve
> 
> Ivan sneaks into his boyfriend's bedroom to keep him company on Christmas Eve.

Alfred woke up when hearing a small tick against his window. He quickly sat up his bed and put on his glasses, perking his ears. When he heard the sound again, he scrambled out of his warm and comfortable bed and tiptoed over, peeking through the curtains with beating heart. He opened the curtains further, jaw dropping when he saw his boyfriend standing beneath his bedroom window. Slinging it open, he leant out into the cold night.

“Ivan, what are you doing here?” Alfred hissed, more pleasantly surprised than annoyed. He and Ivan had been dating for several weeks now, and he had yet to tell his parents. Ivan sneaking into their backyard on Christmas Eve might be dangerous.

“I came to see you,” Ivan said sheepishly, seemingly unfazed by the cold as he stood there in the ugly Christmas sweater Alfred had bought him. “Can I come up?”

Alfred bit his lip to hide a darkish grin, hesitating just a single moment before nodding. “Okay but be quiet, my parents and brother are asleep.”

Alfred then continued to watch in unabashed amazement as Ivan expertly began climbing up to his window, first using a tree to lift himself onto the roof of their garage, before using the rain-pipe to cross the last distance, figure trembling when it creaked ever so slightly. Alfred pulled at his sweater to help him inside, giggling softly as Ivan tumbled into his room, both nervous and flattered that Ivan had thought of him this night. He gasped when Ivan quickly leant up to kiss him, feeling his bones melt a little. But then his shivering was more due to the cold than his excitement and he was forced to break away to close the window, quietly, so as not to disturb the sleeping household.

“You’re crazy,” Alfred snorted softly.

“And that’s why you like me,” Ivan replied, pleased when this caused the other to blush.

The blush deepened when he realized he had his boyfriend in his bedroom, alone, at night. What exactly had Ivan been planning before climbing up the walls? Alfred spun on his heels to face the other when his guest took a seat on the edge of Alfred’s bed, looking up with shimmering eyes. Alfred pushed the tips of his fingers against each other, squirming under that intense gaze.

“So uh, I was actually kinda already asleep- not that I don’t love that you came over! But uh, I mean, I wasn’t really thinking about-“

“Alfred,” Ivan interrupted him, and Alfred almost choked on his saliva in his haste to stop talking. “Relax. I just wanted to see you. I know you uh… You’re not ready.”

Both boys blushed deeply at the bold confession. Ivan pressed on. “If you would rather have me leave-“

“No!” Alfred protested, slapping a hand over his mouth when the sounds seemed to echo through the room. The boys waited for a moment, listening closely, but neither could hear the sound of angry parents stumbling through the hallways. Alfred sighed in relief, before continuing. “I mean, I actually kinda…” He looked at his bed. “…Wanna cuddle for a bit?”

Ivan smiled and nodded, making Alfred’s heart perform a perfect quadruple squad inside his chest. He waited for Ivan to slip under the covers before following suit, quietly giggling as they shuffled as close as possible, never feeling obliged to overstep boundaries. A bit of kissing, touching, enjoying the other’s warmth; it was heavenly. This was the best Christmas gift he could have asked for.

Good thing it was Matthew who discovered them in the morning after both had fallen asleep somewhere after midnight, giving the boys enough time to help Ivan escape before facing Alfred’s parents.


	26. Ghost of Christmas Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Christmas
> 
> Ivan has lost his husband several weeks ago. Yet apparently, his husband refuses to let him be sad on Christmas.

Ivan’s alarm went at exactly 7 o’clock, just like it did any other day. Blearily blinking up at the darkened room, he lay in bed a little while longer, arms and legs stretched, chest evenly moving up and down. He had that dream again, the one that wasn’t exactly happy, nor entirely sad. A dream of…not better times, but different ones indeed. Easier times.

It was only when he slowly sat up and heard the laughter of children outside that realization struck. Today was Christmas day. That moment of recognition rippled through him before once again his senses got smoothed out, becoming numb to any excitement he would have felt as a child. Christmas was just a day like any other when you were an adult, when you worked at an office for regular pay from 9 to 5, when you lived alone in a big house and didn’t have any hobbies to attend to. He stood up and went downstairs, not bothering to open the blinds or get changed.

All right, step one, waking up, was completed. Now onto the next phase: breakfast. Finding his fridge devoid of anything interesting to eat, he opted for some cereal and a mug of steaming hot lemon-ginger tea. Tea was something he always enjoyed, whether he felt like wetting his throat or not. Tea and vodka, but he had been told to lay off for a little while, at least until he was deemed “better”, as if your mental health was something that could be measured in graphs and diaphragms. As if the amount of emotional hurt one developed after the passing of a loved one was something math could solve in one, two, three.

Listening to a news report on the radio while munching away on his cereal, Ivan stared at the white tablecloth. There was still a burn mark right there, when _he_ had been so excited to put a big pot of stew on the table that he had forgotten any kind of protection. Ivan swallowed, lifted the spoon to his mouth for another bite. There were simply so many memories of him left in his house; how could they possibly expect him to forget and move on?

His doctor had advised him to move out if it became unbearable. His sisters had offered to help clean out his stuff. He ignored them all, crawling further into the safe cocoon he had created for himself, devoid of any unnecessary pain, lacking the luster needed for confrontation. He was tired, barely had the energy to get himself to work, week after week after week, counting each hour in which he didn’t have his special one, face expressionless as he passed lovey-dovey couples and happy families, cringing when someone talked too loudly into a phone, speeding up when lovers whispered promises of devotion into one another’s ears.

Ivan felt himself jolt back to the present when someone rang at his door. He blinked owlishly at his half emptied bowl, before dragging his gaze up, peering over at the hallway, the voice of the news reporter being reduced to mere background noise. Who on earth could that be? His sisters had stopped coming to his house several weeks ago, knowing he would come to them if he desired company. _His_ family hadn’t visited him ever since it happened. And any friends or co-workers? The latter barely knew him outside of the office, and he doubted if he had any left of the former.

Carefully lifting himself from his chair, he slowly walked over to the front door, freezing when something was slipped through the mail slot. Feeling a sudden flare of unexplainable anger- the first real emotion he had felt in weeks- he burst forward and through the door, about to speak his mind to whatever fraud or crooked salesman was hoping to “show him the light”. Ivan paused again when he found no one or nothing on his doorstep, no person in sight other than the children playing in the snow, too far from his door to have been delivering mail just a few seconds ago. Doubtfully closing the door again before anyone could notice his scarcely clothed presence, Ivan looked down at the item that had been delivered to their- his address.

It turned out to be an album, the words Merry Christmas printed in elegant burgundy on the leather bindings, glowing golden when he held it at a certain angle. Ivan slowly made his way back to the table, turning off the radio before sitting down and opening the album.

His breath hitched when he got to the very first page. It was a photograph of him and…

“Alfred?” he asked, voice sounding uncharacteristically fragile in the empty room.

It wasn’t just any photo. Oh no- he remembered the day pictured in this frame like it was yesterday. Their first official date, when he had asked Alfred, expression sour as his tongue stumbled over the words, angry at his own anxiety. Alfred’s smile had been gorgeous, twisting his stomach into tight knots. They had gone to the park for a picnic, Alfred laughing when a ladybug landed on the very tip of Ivan’s nose, Ivan going on a tangent on how it was far too late in the year for any ladybugs to be showing up (had to be global warming, they both agreed). They had strolled to the mall and back, listening to Christmas carols, complaining about the dirty sludge that dared call itself snow, sharing a kiss under the mistletoe. It had been a magical day, at least in Ivan’s books. One of their friends had probably snatched a picture when they saw the couple. That must be it.

Ivan felt a lump growing in his throat as he quickly turned the page, eyes soaking in every detail of that handsome face, finding new picture after new picture, each of them depicting a different event in the history of Ivan and Alfred, Alfred and Ivan.

The second photo was taken a year later, another Christmas, another magical day. Ivan covered his mouth with a hand when something swelled in his chest, unable to recognize what it was just yet. This was the day on which Ivan had given Alfred the key to what would be their first shared home. Alfred had all but screamed in joy and surprise as he slung himself around Ivan’s neck, kissing him near breathless. Ivan’s gaze was fond as he memorized the picture, that happiest of expression on Alfred’s face, the lump growing, the swelling in his stomach nearly breaking past the edges, pressing, painful. The dam broke when he saw the next photo.

Ivan let out a strained laugh, sounding more like a sob, as he once again witnessed the moment in which Alfred asked him to marry him. Ivan had been walking around with a ring for quite some time, but never found the right moment to ask, and then finally, Alfred had outsmarted him. In the picture, both were smiling beautifully at the camera, holding up a hand with a brand new golden ring on each hand. Their love was so real Ivan felt like he could touch it and it would flow out of the picture and into his fingers, chasing away all darkness, solving all of the world’s problems. But it couldn’t. No one could. Because Alfred wasn’t here anymore, was he?

Ivan felt hot tears soaking his cheeks as he looked at the next photo, getting closer to the present. He didn’t want it to end yet. He didn’t want to face reality. He didn’t want to be all alone again, going up the stairs in the evening, listening for silence before he went to bed.

In this one, they had been married for a couple of months, and were settling into a new home. Both of their families could be seen toasting in the background, Alfred and Ivan upfront, their cheeks squished together in an attempt to capture everyone in one frame. Alfred was puckering his lips and Ivan was doing his own take on the duckface, cringing at his own behaviour the morning after, when the last drop of champagne had left his system. He wished he could still enjoy the taste of champagne nowadays, wished he could act silly again, wished he’d never felt stupid over something he had done to please Alfred, because Alfred deserved the world. Alfred didn’t deserve…whatever was now.

Ivan’s sight was going blurry, and he wiped at his eyes in agitation, not wanting to miss any second of this. He gasped, a miserable and broken little sound clawing its way through his throat when the final picture came into sight- Christmas, last year. Ivan could be seen laughing at some silly joke Alfred had just made, and Ivan felt himself shake when he noticed a deep desire in Alfred’s eyes he had never seen before, had never paid attention to. For all the staring he had done, he really had been a lousy boyfriend and husband, hadn’t he? He had to have been. If not, Alfred would still be here. He was sure of it.

There was nothing special about the photograph, and yet it was the most important of them all. Because last year today, Ivan had felt completely and perfectly happy, without a single doubt or fear on his mind. Last year today, he had felt the most alive he ever had. Last year today, he and Alfred were ready to take on the world.

But where was Alfred now?

“Where are you?”

Ivan swallowed hot coals, ready to close the album and lock it away, where only his eyes could see it. Yet when he turned the final page, he found a disc of some sorts. “To Ivan”, was written on top of it, in ink black marker. Ivan’s hands trembled in their haste to tear it free from the page, both handling it with care and nearly breaking it in his urgency to put it into his laptop. He even managed to get his password wrong twice before finally managing to start the damn thing up, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears when he started up the DVD.

His breath was taken away when Alfred appeared on his screen, sitting in a chair, looking straight at the camera, straight at _him_ , through him, and Ivan barely missed the first words when emotion overwhelmed him, threatened to drown him and pull him under.

“Hey Ivan. Ivie. Vanya.” Those were only a few of the pet names Alfred had thought up for him. The Alfred on his screen delicately folded his hands, smiling yet looking dead serious. “I need you to do something for me, okay?”

“Anything,” Ivan whispered, not even caring that this Alfred couldn’t hear him. It simply felt so good to hear his voice again, watch those lips form the words that turned into sounds so distinctly Alfred; he would recognize that pattern of speech anywhere, anytime.

“Ivan,” Alfred repeated, and for a moment he seemed to be making eye contact, as if the image of his deceased husband was as alive as he had been before it happened, for all those years Ivan had known and loved him.

“I need you to get out there and _live_. I need you to go to your sisters, and tell them how much you love them. I need you to… To call my parents and talk to them, and give my brother a hug for me, okay?” Alfred scratched his neck, and Ivan almost mimicked the movement, before confusedly lowering his hand.

“Ivan, please. I love you. But I know you too well. You can’t… You can’t stop living because I…” He never uttered the words, but Ivan understood. “I need you to get out there and move on. I need you…” He laughed, forcedly, sounding almost as choked-up as Ivan felt. “No one gets to be alone on Christmas, okay? You promise to get out there? Please? For me.”

Alfred moved in to press a kiss to the camera, and Ivan did the same, body quaking. Alfred. His Alfred. He had no idea when this video was made. Before? …After? It couldn’t have been, could it? But then, had Alfred known he would end up leaving Ivan sooner rather than later? Had he made this, just in case? Surely Alfred never looked that far ahead, did he?

“I promise,” Ivan whispered, hiccupping, shutting his laptop before burying his face into his hands. He cried his heart out at that table, pressing the album to his chest, as if he could revive his beloved by simply wishing him to be here. Alfred didn’t show up, but the crying stopped at one point, his tear ducts having run out of liquid to keep adding to his despair.

Ivan stared at nothing for a while longer, and when he looked up it was already evening. _Not too late yet_ , he thought, and then he did something he hadn’t done in weeks.

He went upstairs, locked away the album, got dressed, came back down with his wallet and car keys, and let the house. Not to go to his work, but to visit his sisters. He felt both physically and emotionally exhausted, ready to sleep for an eternity, but he had promised Alfred, and thus he had to go out. If by doing this, he could keep Alfred’s memory alive, then so be it.

And if in doing so, he could help himself, could finally put a smile to his family’s faces again, then so be it as well.


	27. You Can Look But You Can't Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dressed Up/Formal Wear
> 
> Alfred admires Ivan in a suit.

Hands reverently flattened out a single crook in the dark blue fabric, gave small corrections to the collar, slid down a sturdy chest and minor curves before tucking in a shirt.

“Alfred, we are going to be late,” Ivan said, musical tones of his voice filled with humour.

“Hush, lemme admire you for a moment.”

Alfred’s eyes were hungrily drinking in the sights they were provided with. It didn’t happen too often that he got to see Ivan in evening wear, but damn, when he _did_ get to see it, it sure was eye candy of the best quality.

Ivan looked the epitome of handsome from every possible angle, neat trousers accentuating his long legs, slightly older suit fitting just a bit tightly over the broad expanse of his chest, dark colours highlighting his pale skin, making his eyes stand out.

“I did not hear you complain about me not wearing a suit last night,” Ivan murmured, successfully distracting his lover. He didn’t want to admit that Alfred’s staring was unnerving him; he simply wasn’t used to people looking at him with such obvious desire.

Alfred slowly looked up, small smile adorning his features. “Okay, let’s go. But I get to undress you when we get back, right?”

Ivan smiled as well, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. “Naturally.”


	28. More Like a Snow Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Snow Angels
> 
> Ivan dumps Alfred in the snow to help him cool down. Together they create an abomination.

Alfred was furiously mashing buttons, a maniacal glint in his eyes as he stared at the screen, unblinking, focused like a blood hound.

“Come on… Come on… _Come ooooooon…_ ”

The loudest shout of pure agony in the history of mankind filled the house, shaking its very foundations, when a game over screen appeared. Cursing and yelling, he threw his controller down, tearing at his hair.

“God fucking dammit, not again! That’s like the thirtieth time in a row!”

 _Thirty-one, to be precise_. Ivan had appeared in the doorway with a glass of calming milk, now watching his infuriated boyfriend raging and hollering, seeming ready to rip their television off the wall and throw it out the window. Carefully placing the mug down, he walked over to the couch, reaching it in a few swift steps, before bending over and slinging the other over a shoulder.

“You need to calm down for a moment.”

Alfred wriggled and flailed and snarled and spat profanities, Ivan having difficulty holding onto him as he made his way outside. He seriously considered bumping Alfred’s head against a wall more than once, but decided having to pay for the crack in the wallpaper wouldn’t be worth it.

Once outside, he unceremoniously dropped Alfred in the snow. As soon as he hit the ground, the blond tried to get up, but Ivan quickly flopped down after him to stop him from escaping.

“Get your fat butt off of me!” Alfred growled, floundering about, causing clouds of cold snow to fly up.

“I am not fat,” Ivan huffed, a scuffle commencing as each tried to gain the upper hand. When violence didn’t appear to work in his favour, Ivan opted for a plan B.

Tickling.

“NOOOOO, s-stop you jerkface!” Alfred was wheezing within mere seconds, gasping for breath when Ivan lifted up his shirt to blow raspberries on his stomach, the cold snow making him shriek and kick. Usually Ivan was the more ticklish of the two, but Alfred just couldn’t seem to reach under that heavy coat.

“Uncle, uncle!” he cried, actual tears streaming from his eyes and down his reddened cheeks.

Ivan finally relented, chest heaving as he sat up, smile crooked and snowy bangs perfectly dishevelled. “Better?” he asked, only helping the other up once he nodded, gasping for breath. Both were dusting off their clothes, correcting their collars and shirts, before Alfred put a hand to Ivan’s chest and pointed.

“Look. We created a monster.”

Ivan squinted, tilting his head to the side. Alfred followed suit.

Some kind of imprint was left in the snow… While one would normally dub this a snow angel, it looked far too horrific to deserve that name. Sprouting extra limbs, wild and grotesque, it looked more like an amalgamation of fury than an actual human being.

Ivan patted Alfred on the shoulder, before pulling him close. “I would rather have your anger out here than inside. May it rest in peace.”

Alfred nodded solemnly, remaining quiet.


	29. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Winter Forest
> 
> Alfred ends up getting lost in more ways than one.

Alfred sniffled as he rounded another tree, this one looking exactly like the previous one. He had been wandering through this forest for what felt like hours, weakened, tired, hungry, miserable. He wished he hadn’t wandered off. Hadn’t seen what he thought to be some kind of strange apparition, following it, further separating himself from the group. Now he was lost and alone, with no way of telling which direction to go.

Alfred whined when it started to snow. Now he had to deal with this too? It simply wasn’t fair. As if the gods were out to get him, he kept stumbling from one misery to another, out of the frying pan and into the fire. He’d already wet his feet in the river earlier on, ripped his shirt on some branches, scraped his knees when tripping over a rock. His body wailed, shivering and quivering, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he was able to hold on.

Alfred stopped dead in his tracts when he could hear a faint whisper being carried on the wind. “Hello?” he called, heart speeding up as he protectively slung his arms around his torso, giving himself a comforting hug. He heard the voice again, something light and fragile, and then he caught a glimpse of a figure. “Wait!”

Alfred immediately began running toward the place, feeling both anxious and relieved, hoping to have somehow stumbled upon society. He didn’t immediately notice the trees growing thinner and higher, greenery making place for leaves made out of ice, the forest slowly changing all around him.

Panting, he finally entered an open area, dozens of flowers sprouting from the ground, as if winter had somehow preserved this small area for later use. He marvelled at all the colours; soft purples, deep blues, all wintry and yet vivaciously diverse. Was this some kind of refuge for the lonely wanderer?

However, it appeared he wasn’t alone.

Alfred jerked back when someone moved into his peripheral view, spinning around until he was facing the intruder. His heart all but stopped when he gazed upon the newcomer.

Before him stood a man… Or not exactly a man, but too human-like to be called a creature. He was tall, had the very same colour scheme of the scenery behind him, but above all, a cloud of frost seemed to surround him, pour from his every fibre and pore, dance between his fingers. Something flashed through Alfred’s consciousness. He liked to pretend he was standing before the very king of the forest. And he was both awed and terrified, momentarily overwhelmed by this sublime manifestation.

The being moved an arm towards him, and Alfred flinched, eyes screwed shut, every muscle snapping taut. He shuddered when an ice cold hand touched his cheek, travelled along his jaw, tilted his chin up. Hesitantly opening his eyes to slits, he boldly gazed right back at the other, feeling empowered by the fact that he had yet to faint.

In fact, he was feeling a lot less tired too. Less hungry as well. The longer he was touched by those frozen fingertips, the more his energy returned to him, until he was standing proud and tall, eyes now wide and curious, expression both grateful and confused.

His breath hitched when the man pressed a feathery light kiss to his forehead, before leaning down further to whisper in his ear. “You will leave and never come back.”

He blinked. When his eyes opened again, he was standing outside the forest, watching the smoke leave his chimney back in the village down the hill, waiting for his homecoming. He looked back at the forest, confused, scratching his cheek. He could’ve sworn… But no, nothing seemed to be out of place.

Alfred turned around and walked home, never quite noticing the eyes watching his every step as he made his way down the hill.


	30. That's Very Unorthodox of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: St. Basil's Cathedral
> 
> Alfred wants to see how far he can go teasing his boyfriend without being thrown out of church.

Alfred whistled as he looked up, admiring the architecture. The sound echoed through the high building, and Ivan slapped the back of his head to reprimand him. “We are still in a church, you know,” he helpfully reminded his companion.

“Yeah I know,” Alfred said, rubbing the back of his head. “But can’t a man whistle when he likes something?”

Ivan sent him a cool glare before walking off, not waiting for his visitor to stumble behind. “If we go downstairs, we can visit the chapel of St. Basil the Blessed.” He started on a long tangent on the history of the building, Alfred only listening with half an ear.

He knew this stuff. Surely he hadn’t been around when it all began, but he had learnt enough about Russia over all these years to _know_ about the nine chapels, about Kazan and this very church built in dedication of its capture, and how Stalin almost got it removed because “it was in the way”. He knew enough about churches-turned-museums, about art and architecture and religion and culture.

What he did _not_ know, was if Orthodox Christians were allowed to kiss in said churches. Thus he made that exact proposal to Ivan once they entered the chapel of St. Basil, having temporarily escaped the stream of tourists.

Ivan froze mid-step, eyes going comically wide, before gaping at Alfred. “You want to do _what_?”

Alfred shrugged, sweetly batting his eyes, hoping to look alluring. “I mean, we _are_ alone right now. And how many guys get to say they made out in church and got away with it, huh?”

Ivan could practically hear the patriarch of his church screaming in his ear as his blood turned cold.

Needless to say, Alfred was quite peeved when he found himself escorted out of the church, Ivan not letting him in his house until he had paid for his sins.


	31. Appointment for Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Russia's Birthday
> 
> Ivan gets called in to work for a surprise.

“Now?” Ivan asked incredulously, staring at his phone.

“Yeah, sorry, but it’s an emergency. I know it’s your day off, but we _need_ an expert to deal with this situation.” Ivan could hear shuffling and yelling in the background as his co-worker, Alfred, barked orders at an employee.

Ivan sighed. “I will be there in half an hour.”

“Great!” Alfred cheered, moving back to his phone. “Thanks big guy, I owe you. I promise to make it up to you later!” And with a click he was gone.

Ivan sighed again, looking deflated. He wouldn’t have minded being called in for work any other day of the year, but for once, he would have liked to treat himself on something nice for his birthday. It was always forgetting, being so close to New Year, or his family was too busy to celebrate it, or he caught a cold and couldn’t have guests over, or he was snowed in, or whatever else calamity faith might throw at him.

Oh well. At least Alfred had promised to “make it up to him”, however the blond might understand those terms. Ivan could feel his cheeks glow as his mind wandered while he slipped into his shoes and coat; he could think of several ways Alfred could make it up to him… Not that any of them were realistic.

Ivan went outside and drove to work, trying to lift his spirits by imagining what he would treat himself to once he got back home. Some nice food, an old movie, a bottle of vodka. Tomorrow he’d get to sleep in anyway, so he might as well make the best of it tonight.

He parked his car and entered the hospital via the staff entrance, pausing once inside. There was a card lying on the floor. He picked it up while making his way to the elevator, vowing to drop it off in the canteen later for the owner to find. However, a quick look at the flipside made him pause. That writing was far too distinctly Alfred, and the words seemed to be… directed at him.

_Ivan, I need you to come to my office. I’ll explain._

_Alfred_

Did this mean that there was no emergency? For a moment he felt anger flare up; had Alfred truly kept him from enjoying his birthday for some stupid prank? He felt like crumbling the paper and heading back home, but then again, he was here already, he might as well check out the scene.

Tiredly walking up the stairs to the second floor, Ivan grumbled at the image of Alfred’s  stupid face, his stupid cluelessness, his stupid stupidity. Alfred was so frustratingly oblivious that it was making Ivan’s mind less eloquent. He knocked once, then opened the door, stepping in and about to tell the other his mind. The words froze on his tongue.

Alfred’s office had been transformed into a cosy little dining room. There was a table (probably stolen from the canteen) made for two , complete with cream tablecloth and candlelight, a banner hung from the ceiling reading the words “Happy Birthday Ivan!”, and tender classical music could be heard coming from Alfred’s laptop. And Alfred had abandoned his white doctor’s coat for a nice dark blue suit and red tie, standing nervously before the table, chest puffed out to make him seem bigger.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, big guy.”

Ivan blinked, hand still on the door handle. “What is all this?” he asked, looking around, searching for any hidden accomplices, as if they would jump out and reveal this as a prank after all.

Alfred shifted a bit, smile sheepish, and had he actually tried to flatten that stubborn little sprig of hair on top of his head? “I uh… I was hoping you would join me for dinner. On your birthday. Just the two of us. Alone.” That seemed to be important enough to stress.

“Like a date?” Ivan piped in, the scenery suddenly clicking in his mind. He felt his cheeks heating up a second time when Alfred slowly nodded, studying his feet as if they were out-of-this-worldly interesting.

“Yeah… Like a date. If you’d want to.”

He could still play it cool, leave, go home, pretend this never happened. But why on earth would he do that?!

Instead, Ivan closed the door behind him, smiling equally as shyly. “I would like that very much,” he mumbled, both doctors the complete opposites of their usual confident working attitude, almost afraid to make direct eye contact. “How did you…?”

“Oh, the others helped,” Alfred said, scratching at an ear.

Ivan blushed deeper. “So everyone knew?”

“Yeah… I’ve kinda been dropping hints for months now… Surprised you didn’t notice yet.”

Ivan sighed, this time out of relief. Alfred didn’t need to know he was horrible at recognizing flirtation when it presented itself to him on a silver platter. Oh well.

The smile grew. It seemed like he would be having a great birthday after all.


	32. Until Next Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Tree Decorating (Russian Tradition)
> 
> Ivan counts down to 2017 before the New Year Tree.

Ivan’s eyes reflected the millions of lights hanging from the Yolka, a New Year Tree around which his children gathered to count down the last seconds the infamous 2016. This specimen was only one of many trees decorating his land that night, a relic and tradition preserved from the times of Peter the Great. It didn’t have as much significance as western Christmas trees, but Ivan liked the nostalgia surrounding these trees, like the excitement of his people, embraced it as a part of his cultural heritage.

This would be the last tree he saw tonight, as he had been traveling from time zone to time zone, making sure he participated in all festivities. Tonight he was a part of the people, just Ivan Braginsky, more than a little tipsy, feeling sentimental as he clung a phone to his ear.

“You are missing all the fun,” he crooned, lips curling up as he listened to Alfred’s breathy chuckles.

“Oh believe me, we’ve had quite the party over here too. Probably more fun than yours.”

“Nonsense,” Ivan huffed, smiling fondly at the boisterous laughter pouring from his phone. He wished Alfred could have been here, but he had been preoccupied by his own country’s merrymaking and gaiety. They were always nations first, secret lovers second. Still, Ivan wished he could hold that bright youngster in his arms when the final countdown began.

“Will you count with me?” he asked, stepping closer to the tree as the minutes turned to seconds.

“In Russian or American?” Alfred asked teasingly, and Ivan wish he could pinch a cheek, see that indignant look on his face when he told him American wasn’t a language.

“You do yours, I do mine,” he proposed, and Alfred agreed. Together they began counting down when the final minute was set in, a certain hopefulness settling into Ivan’s stomach as he watched the faces of his children. This year had been quite the disaster, and he knew many a nation would agree. Still, it was almost over, almost time for new beginnings, and at least, he had been allowed to spend this year with Alfred.

“Thirty-two, thirty-one, thirty…”

Ivan spoke softly into his phone as he listened to the soothing murmur of Alfred’s voice, entrancing, waiting to shout until the last seconds set in, keeping the last excitement for when it truly mattered.

“Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen…”

A small frown creased his brow when the voice seemed to be getting louder, but not in the way it _should_ have been getting louder- as if it wasn’t just coming from the object in his hand anymore, but…

Slowly taking the phone from his ear as he continued counting, he became sure of it. Someone behind him, someone with the exact same voice of Alfred, was-

His mouth fell open into a surprised little “oh” when he felt an arm being slung over his shoulder, a body leaning against his back, as lips were placed to his ear.

“Seven, six, five…”

He took over for the last seconds, a sudden warmth spreading through his chest.

“ _Chetirye, tree, dva, adeen._ ”

“ _S novim godom!_ ”

Ivan heard those surrounding them cheer and shout, not really paying attention to what they were saying as he grabbed the hand placed over his chest, spun around, and pulled Alfred in for a heated kiss. Alfred didn’t protest, responding with an equal amount of force and fervour, their bodies fitting perfectly together in a tender embrace.

Ivan finally broke the kiss to gasp for breath, though he didn’t remove himself from his lover.

“Happy New Year babe. I didn’t want to miss a kiss from you.”

Ivan merely responded by kissing him again, relaying all the hopes and dreams he had for the new year, and the happiness he felt at experiencing this night together with the one he loved.


End file.
